Amberlight
by J. E. Talveran
Summary: Devil Wears Prada AU story. Andy finds herself in the middle of a dominance ploy between the editor she'd left behind in Paris and her latest mentor.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Amberlight  
Author: J.E Talveran  
****Rating: Teen**

**Disclaimer: **All characters associated with the Devil Wears Prada are not mine, no matter how awesome that would be. In additon, if werewolves, or femmeslash displease you, I think Amberlight would not be your cup of tea. I do not run with a beta and though I try to correct the mistakes I can catch, I can't find them all. I apologize in advance for any errors.

* * *

**Chapter One**

She was only a second or two leaving sleep's embrace when the dream sprung into her consciousness. The flashes and sounds came like a skipping music track...

_A sweet smell pulls into the distance._

She winced and squeezed her eyes in a vain attempt to chase away the fog.

_Silver light chases along a darkened path._

A moan slipped unbidden from her lips.

_Bite. Shred. Feast._

Her eyes snap open.

"Oh, good. I was hoping you would wake soon." Someone moved before the curtains, the sun casting them into silhouette. They paused when she yelped at the invasive light, then tsked and turned, drawing heavier curtains down.

The result was a bearable twilight. Her eyes began to focus and take in her surroundings. She was in a bedroom, that much she could ordain from the heavenly-soft mattress she was on. The style was a quiet elegance that belied taste and wealth far beyond her own meager salary. So, it wasn't her bedroom...

"Andrea, are you sure you're awake?" the shadow stepped forward and clucked it's tongue. "Honestly, child. Up!"

Andy groaned at the command and closed her eyes one last time before pushing herself into a sitting position; and instantly regretting it as a sharp pain rocketed down her spine and curled into her toes. "Shit..." She cracked her eyes open and stared at her waker. "Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth nodded and took the last few steps to the bed. She was old enough to be Andy's grandmother but looked like she could have been Andy's aunt. Her hair was a swirl of red sprinkled with a few silver-white strands, and as she sat down by Andy's side, the smell of sandalwood and lavender floated on the air. "I suppose that's probably an understatement, dear." Her eyes traveled Andy's body and then pierced her with their gaze. "What exactly hurts?"

Andy wanted to mouth off with 'what doesn't hurt', but the haunting hazel made her rethink her first reaction. "Everywhere. What happened to me?"

Elizabeth brushed off her question, instead she asked another one of her own: "Any fever-dreams?"

Andy's mind flitted back to the brief glimpses she could remember. She shook her head.

The older woman pursed her lips. She locked Andy within her gaze for a moment longer, then turned to glance at the door. "You were attending the dinner, and afterwards you were most ungraciously knocked unconscious by an overeager photographer. Doctor Michaels, an old friend, checked you over..."

"I was knocked out?" Andy gaped.

Elizabeth ignored the interruption, "and assured me that all you needed was bed rest and an eye on you for the night. I saw no reason to jostle you into a car and back to your home."

"I was knocked out?" Andy repeated, the answer wasn't fitting right in her mind and she scrunched up her nose in confusion before deciding that facial expressions hurt almost as much as moving.

"Yes dear," Elizabeth waved a hand dismissively, "and you'll most likely be given a clean bill of health when James, Doctor Michaels', checks you over after break-" She paused, her eyes going to the grandfather clock by the far bookcase. "Well, after brunch now. Are you hungry?"

Andy's stomach answered for her and Elizabeth's eyes twinkled before she stood. "Here's a cup of tea to get you started, then when you're up for it, come out to the den and we'll get you checked out, mm?"

A tray was placed over Andy's lap and she looked up in time to catch the heel of Elizabeth's boot disappear through the doorway. The thank you on Andy's lips hit dead air and she sighed, staring down at the cup.

"A cup of tea? Why not a bottle of aspirin?" Andy sipped at the drink despite her protesting and tried to recall exactly how she ended up in a guest bedroom of the Elizabeth Wiltshire, one of New York's elite writers.

It had been a year or so ago, Andy was beginning to slowly rebuild her life after the Paris Incident, as she dubbed Fashion Week. Nate had moved up to Boston, Lily's eyes still held the lingering traces of betrayal, and Doug's laughter was strained as he tried to mediate the two over lunches. Andy's job at the Mirror wasn't easier than being Miranda Priestly's assistant. The new blood in the bullpen, she was best used to edit the sports' page or the weekly wrap-up then even breath on an article.

It was another week before the ruthlessness she had walked away from in France reared it's head in challenge. Two weeks after that, her edits over the coverage of an suspected arsonist bumped her into a reporter's chair and the original writer was back to detailing the weather forecast. Three months later, Andy had received a small award for her article concerning the dangers of charity scams in light of the earthquake in Japan. That night's benefit had introduced her to Elizabeth's attentions. He two had developed an instant rapport and before another three months had passed by, Andy was beginning to be shown at events and charities as Wiltshire's protégé.

Andy gulped the last of the tea, her pain gone and replaced by hunger. Last night must have been one of Elizabeth's book-release parties. It would explain why she was there, and those events were mobbed by the paparazzi trying to get the perfect shot off. Yes, Andy nodded, standing up and moving to the adjoining bathroom; she had obviously stepped into the wrong path at the wrong time and received a camera to the head most likely.

After her morning ritual, she peeled off the nightgown someone (Elizabeth, no doubt) dressed her in to change into the outfit Elizabeth had laid out when something caught her attention in the mirror.

_Teeth and blood._

The wound was a garish red, swollen and inflamed.

_Warm and moist along her earlobe._

The wound twisted along her collarbone, and there were cuts that went over the bone and under it, like...

Something had bitten into her...

_It bit down into her..._

Andy reared back from the mirror, slamming into the shelves behind her. "Ow, dammit!" She clapped a hand to the back of her head, biting back another curse. The lights behind her eyes faded as the pain did and she stepped towards her reflection, tracing a finger over the bite. It was cleaned, that much she could tell, but otherwise it was an utter mystery.

"Andrea?" Elizabeth rapped on the door.

"Coming!" she called back, quickly slipping into the outfit. Long, fitted white slacks and a green tunic with matching white belt. A pair of gucci half-boots completed the ensemble. She ran a hand through her hair, figured that "bedhead chic" was the best she could get and dabbed on enough makeup to look presentable before opening the door and meeting Elizabeth's questioning look with a sheepish smile. "I'm not holding him from an appointment, am I?"

"Not at all." Elizabeth placed a hand at her elbow and led her out and down the hallway. They breezed past several open doors before Andy was ushered into a small den. "Feeling better, Andrea?"

Andy nodded, "Yeah, you know, you could market your tea, what was in it?"

"Family secret," she patted Andy's shoulder and stepped aside as a charming older man walked in. "There you are James."

Doctor Michaels' smile was easygoing but his gaze was as sharp as Elizabeth's as he circled Andy. He asked her question after question, wondering how she was feeling, was there any pain along her spine, fever, did she have fever-dreams. Everything but how the bite was faring.

So, Andy brought it up.

Elizabeth answered before Doctor Michaels' could. "Oh, heavens, we don't know. You came to the dinner wearing that dress covering yourself up because of it. You never did tell us -why-."

Andy blinked. "I didn't?"

"Not at all, dear, in fact you barely mentioned it after your explanation. I didn't think it that important."

Andy's mind stumbled along the words but she nodded dumbly. The knock to her head must have been nasty. The last time she had been conked out, it was at her cousin's wedding and she still had a fuzzy recollection of the week leading up to that.

"Oh. Well... it just looked a bit inflamed."

Doctor Michaels gestured for her to sit on the couch. "Elizabeth mentioned it to me last night as she took that dress off, how women can breathe squeezing yourselves into those things; well, I looked it over and gave it a cleaning. That swelling should settle down soon enough."

"Swelling? Elizabeth, did you manage to sprain your ankle before we've even set out?"

Andy froze. She knew that voice. She knew those smooth tones well enough, having had listened to them tear people down and up and sideways just for good measure. In fact, Andy closed her eyes and saw the disdainful expression, the arch of a silver brow, the purse of lips, the ice-blue gaze.

"Ah, Miranda, you're just on time. James will make sure Andrea's fine and then we can start."

"Andrea?" Miranda's voice took on a confused lilt. There was a shuffle behind Andy and within seconds, that ice-blue gaze seared into her. "Andrea." This time, Miranda's tone was flat.

"Um, hi." Andy winced as Miranda Priestly's attention left her and turned dangerously onto the other woman.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

Though her body language screamed that she was less than two seconds away from destroying an ego, when Miranda spoke, it was as calm as if she was discussing highlights of upcoming shows. "Elizabeth, please tell me that I have fallen into some horrible nightmare and within the next sentence I shall be waking up to the delightful screeching of my alarm-clock." She waved a hand in Andy's direction. "Why is my ex-assistant gaping at me like I'm wearing red plaid over beige bottoms?"

Elizabeth snorted, "Miranda, you're being over-dramatic."

Andy closed her mouth and tried to keep a look of indignity off her face. She wasn't gaping, geez!

Doctor Michael sighed and pressed a finger to his temple. "Miranda, I'm merely making sure the girl's all right before Elizabeth releases her to do whatever it is twenty-some-odds do on Saturdays."

Miranda turned on him, her mouth pressed in a thin line. "All right?" her gaze slid to Andy, then she returned her attention to the doctor. "Why wouldn't she be all right?"

Elizabeth smiled, "Oh, it's nothing, Miranda, really."

"Really?" Doubt oozed in the word.

Andy thought she saw Elizabeth's smile waver a fraction before she nodded and repeated herself.

Miranda sniffed, then whirled on Andy. "Well?"

Andy blinked. Well? Well what? What on earth did the woman want from her now? Oh, if it was a coffee, she could tell Miranda to shove it right up her-

"...right?"

Andy blinked again. She'd missed something from the Oh-you-moron look she was receiving. "Huh?"

"For heaven's sake. Are you all right Andrea?" Miranda tilted her head, the look still there.

"I... er..."

"Were you struck mute suddenly?"

Damn her. Andy took a breath. "No, I mean, yes! I'm all right. I mean, yes, Miranda, I'm all right."

Answer found, Miranda resumed talking with Elizabeth and Andy could have made it home-free; but her mind had never been clear when it came to Miranda and within a heartbeat she found herself adding to her statement. "Well, I mean, I'm all right now. I got hit in the head with a camera and I think a large dog bit me because there's this -really- nasty-looking bite on my shoulder but that's ok, it doesn't sting at all and... what?"

Miranda was staring at her again, the look gone, her face pale. "What did you say?"

"Uh, it was," Andy looked to Elizabeth for help but the redhead was staring heavenward with a wince. "I mean, ah, nothing?"

"You said you were bitten?"

Andy only managed to squeak out a yes as Miranda stepped within a foot of her. She willed herself to not shake as the editor leaned in. "Mir-Miranda?"

Miranda snapped out of it when Andy spoke and took a step back. "Where?"

Andy pointed to her collar, confused.

Miranda scowled. "Take that tunic off."

"What?" Andy hadn't heard right, surely.

"Take off the tunic so I can see the bite, Andrea. What, are you five?"

"I, wait, no, why?"

Miranda's eyes rolled skyward. "I own a large Saint Bernard, Andrea, I know when a dog bite is shallow or if one needs to go in to receive stitches even if a doctor," her lips twisted around that word, "cleans it."

"Oh." Andrea still didn't budge.

Miranda tapped her foot, then let out a frustrated sigh. "Please, Andrea, humor my whims."

_She just said please!_ Andy's mouth fell ajar as she fumbled to tug the loose collar down enough to expose the bite to the room. She caught Elizabeth's gaze and even the redhead appeared shocked at the words.

Miranda stepped close enough that her breath floated over Andy's neck, and she reached out a finger to trace the same path Andy had earlier. The touch brought no pain, it tickled though. When Andy squirmed away, Miranda's eyes were clouded and her expression pinched.

She was livid.

Andy was clueless. Again.

Elizabeth coughed. "Perhaps, Andrea, it's time for you to see yourself home. I'll have Mary call a taxi for you."

Andy shifted the tunic, and brushed past Miranda, hoping to get out before the doomsday clock went off. She barely brushed a toe over the archway when:

"Andrea, you will wait in the hallway for me, that's all."

Andy growled under her breath as she went to the railing and leaned against it. "Wait for her? For her? Who does she think she is?"

Doctor Michaels patted her shoulder as he slipped past. "Miranda Priestly, of course. I suggest doing what she says."

Andy opened her mouth to retort but he was already halfway down the stairs. "Yeah, what else would I do?" she groused, dropping her head onto her arms. She didn't understand why she had to wait for her, she wasn't her assistant and-

" ...could you?"

Andy's head popped up. She sent a sly glance over her shoulder. The door was cracked just enough for their voices to slip through. She bit her lip, worried on the ethics for half a millisecond, then allowed her journalistic nosy nature take control as she crept over to eavesdrop.

"Miranda..." that was Elizabeth, her voice quiet.

"You knew, you of all people knew that... that, damn it, Elizabeth, you knew!"

"It wasn't me, Miranda!" her voice stayed soft but the bite was there. "How dare you even suggest I'd betray your trust like that!"

"What am I supposed to think, Elizabeth? That she was accidentally nibbled on at your biggest get-together after nearly half a year of promoting her as your protégé?"

"For God's sake, will you think straight? I admire the girl's talents but I would never, look, you were close enough; did you smell me on her?"

Andy shook her head, trying to dislodge that statement. She heard wrong. Side-effect of head-trauma. Inside the room was a long pause.

"No."

"It could have been any one of the others, or even a mongrel that wasn't properly dealt with, they're always lurking around..."

"I suppose." Miranda sighed, then continued, "but that brings up the utter carelessness of bringing her to a meet-and-greet!"

"Oh, so now I'm not only betraying your trust, I'm leading your little lamb to slaughter? While we're at it, want to accuse me of sleeping with her too?"

"I'm leaving." There was a shuffle of movement and Andy banged her elbow into the railing as Miranda opened the door. "Andrea? Good, come along." She breezed past her without waiting for a response.

Andy looked to Elizabeth who had rounded into view. The redhead offered a terse smile and nodded. "Go, dearie, I'll call you later." She disappeared into another room down the hall.

"Andrea!"

"Coming!" Andy spun on her heel and double-timed it down the stairs, meeting Miranda's huff of exasperation. "Did you want to wait outside for Roy?"

Miranda flashed her a variant of the Were-You-Born-Stupid look and stepped out onto the front veranda. "Why would I call Roy?"

Andy knew to shut up, really, but the words slipped past before she could reason with herself. "To pick you up? You never drive, Miranda."

Miranda's gaze could make a king feel small. "Really." She quipped, already taking the keys out of her purse. She headed to a silver 2007 Bentley Continental GT Coupe and opened the driver's side door. She waited until Andy had shakily opened the passenger door before gracefully settling behind the wheel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

Andy always saw the drive to Elizabeth's house as both a blessing and a curse. It was blessed because it was far from the city and held an air of perpetual tranquility about it, and it was cursed because it was far from the city and the drive alone took up a quarter of one's day; which normally was a slight inconvenience, but when one added an irritated Miranda Priestly into the mix, well, it was like riding with the devil.

Andy hid her nervous squirming with a visual tour of the car. Of course it was an utter beauty, how could it not be? The engine was practically purring as they wound down the road. Miranda looked comfortable behind the wheel and as they put miles between them and Elizabeth's property, she started to relax, bit by bit. The silence between them lost its tension.

Of course, then Miranda spoke, bringing the nerves back to the forefront of Andy's mind.

"I'm going to step out on a limb and assume that, naturally, you have absolutely no idea of what's going on." She didn't bother looking to Andy for confirmation. "I'm also going to grant Elizabeth some measure of understanding that what she's told me is the truth. Which brings it down to you, again," her mouth twisted to a mockery of a smile.

"Miranda," Andy sighed.

Miranda held up a hand, cutting off whatever she would say. "Considering the fact that they both were going to let you walk out without any warnings, I'll have to pick up the slack, as usual." She gave Andy a sideways glance. "You have no clue what I'm talking about."

Andy shook her head.

"Suppose that's for the best, for now. After all, it cannot be confirmed for the first few nights."

"What?"

"If it comes down to it, I'll tell you."

Andy scowled and leaned back in the seat, her sights focused on the scenery. "Whatever."

"It's for the best, Andrea." Miranda sounded apologetic, "It's not information you want dealt when it has no bearing on the present situation."

"You don't know what I want," Andy snapped, then sucked in a breath. "I, damn, sorry; just, I've spent all morning with people talking over my heads and treating me like I've come down with a disease."

"It's not a disease, Andrea."

"Then what is it then?" She snapped, fixing Miranda with a pained look. The editor's profile hardened, then softened. "What the hell is wrong with me, Miranda?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"Andrea!" Miranda looked scandalized.

Andy shifted in the leather seat, her arms folded tightly at her chest. "Pull over."

"Don't be silly, Andrea."

"If you're going to treat me like an idiot, I can find my own way home."

"You're not thinking rationally, Andrea, now be quiet and accept a favor for once."

Andy's eyes widened and she let out a bark of bitter laughter. "Oh, that's... that's rich. Coming from you-"

"Andrea..." there was a warning there.

"No. No, someone's going to explain this all to me, and if I'm not going to get my scoop, then one of you gets to deal with an angry Andy. This, this is an angry Andy!" She jabbed a finger at her chest. "You wanted to drive me, since when did you drive other people?"

Miranda rolled her eyes, then blew out a breath. "I was supposed to introduce you, slowly of course, to everyone. You showed such potential, I thought... I thought you would fall so well in line with what it could offer." Her eyes steeled, "then Paris. Do you even comprehend what you did to the magazine, what you did to me?"

"Nigel didn't deserve that Miranda!"

"Nigel understood that I had to do what was needed to keep _Runway_ running perfectly."

Andy shook her head again. "You should have told him."

"You could have as well," she looked to Andy. "Nigel's in the process of transferring to becoming the editor of _Men's Runway_, Andrea. I recommended him when Alex stepped down." She went silent, then continued, her voice softer than average. "I don't explain my actions." Her eyes turn downcast for a second.

Andy didn't think she could say anything that would fit, or sound right, or even smooth out the wrinkles left after Paris. A heavy silence settled between the two women, and Miranda stared ahead at the road while Andy drifted into an uneasy doze.

Evening was creeping up when the car eased into New York's city-limits. The sudden cacophony of sirens, cars, and the heartbeat of the city woke Andy up in a start and she stared wildly about until she gained her senses.

"I slept the entire time?"

"You did."

Andy risked a glance to Miranda. "Did I snore?""Oh for..."

"It's an honest question!" Andy pushed herself up and stared at the buildings. "Uh, do you need directions? I moved two months ago."

"I know."

"Oh, ok," Andy slumped in relief, "because I don't think I know the way from here; what?" She frowned.

"I know you moved."

"You do?"

"Elizabeth mentioned your new place over drinks." Miranda took the pause from a traffic light and gave Andy an odd glance-over.

"Oh."

The car went quiet again.

The engine wasn't turned off when Miranda pulled to the curb, but Andy still felt some suicidal need to be polite and offer her in for coffee. Thankfully, the long drive seemed to have mellowed Miranda and she waved it off, referring to taking a free weekend as a chance to wrap up loose ends from work.

Andy opened her door and placed a foot on the curb when Miranda called her name. She turned, brow raised.

Miranda apparently thought better and only waved her off. She waited until Andy had stepped from the curb before pulling back out onto the street and disappeared around the corner. The wash of a crisp autumn wind drew Andy from her thoughts and she pushed the door of her building open with a wistful sigh.

The day was over, the oddness of an almost-human Miranda was gone, and she had the rest of the weekend to recover from the head-bump. The thought made her subconsciously rub her hand over the back of her head. No lumps, no soreness. Elizabeth's tea was a godsend.

Andy side-stepped a neighbor chatting animatedly on his cell in the middle of the hallway. She caught clips concerning someone's mother and easing the information to her gently. Andy smirked, wondering if she was going to need to send a well-wishes card.

She fumbled with the key, jiggling it in, then tugged it halfway out, turned it one way, then pushed it all the way in and turned it the other way. She idly wondered if it would be quicker to lockpick the damned door and pushed into her apartment.

It wasn't much bigger than the studio she shared with Nate last year, but it was an improvement. Her personal things could be stashed in the tiny bedroom, and she could leave her laundry lying around without wondering who could see it from the couch. The kitchen was a mite larger too, which helped Andy's cooking, still in it's infant stages. She still burned more things than she plated for her own dinner, but she was learning! Sort of.

The space still felt huge to her after living for so long in a tiny studio, most of that time with another person. The sensation of being alone struck her every so often in the living room that she had to step outside and take a walk to soothe herself. Tonight was one of those nights.

The emptiness smacked her in the face as the door swung open. The room was dark save for the streetlight pouring in from the loft windows. The shadows were thick and unwelcoming and Andy made an about-face and shut the door. She took a shuddery breath and locked the door before heading back down the hall, past the chattering man who gave her a long look as she took the stairs.

Out on the street, the anxiety faded with the cool breeze and Andy felt that she could breath again. Her thoughts tripped over calling Doug or Lily but that avenue slammed shut as quick as it opened. Lily and her still weren't close enough to talk about issues left-over from Nate's leaving, and Doug was entertaining his folks for the weekend.

Walking it off was her best bet.

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and set off south down the street, towards the local park. Though, even though the street was empty save for a passing car, she had the oddest sensation that she was being watched.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

A quick jaunt around the park and two loops past her favorite newsstand, Andy felt calm enough to face her apartment and hummed under her breath as she made for home, the earlier oddities of the day filing themselves in the back of her mind for later perusal at her leisure. Which meant she'd be up at the crack of dawn trying to analyze each detail; an unfortunate side-effect of journalism: everything had a hidden meaning.

Except for calls from her mother; then it was all in the open and headache-inducing. Of course, one couldn't block their mother's number, that just opened up actual visits and by the powers that be, Andy wasn't that insane. Yet.

Andy reached into her pocket to grab her keys as she neared the doorway when she stopped. The street was empty, as expected for night in this part of town, but it was also deathly-quiet, not normal for this part of town. Where was the siren of the daily half-hour ambulance run, or the rumble of car music?

Andy wasn't completely unaware of the dangers of being a young woman walking alone after the sun went down. Her few years in New York brought her face-to-face with the scarier aspects of living in the city, but they had taught her how to react to get herself out of the danger-zone and fast. Tonight, though, something clenched around her urge to bolt to a safe haven. Instead of running, she turned to the street, every sense on high-alert. Fear didn't tickle the back of her mind, somehow she understood that whatever ... whoever had interrupted her nightly ritual wouldn't want to press their luck further.

The seconds ticked by, even the breeze lulled to a wisp of cold; then like it had been a bad pause in a movie, the world returned to normal. A siren broke into her hearing, horrible music boomed down from the cross-street north of her, and New York returned to life around her.

Andy breathed a sigh of relief and double-timed it up into her building. She kept the pace up through the hallway and slowed when she reached her door. The previous calmness was gone from her mind, only the quick and sudden certainty that it was no longer a smart choice to stay outside gripped her. She offered a silent thanks to whoever watching over her that the key ritual was fast and easy. It slid in and turned without the elaborate jiggling and cajoling it normally needed. She eased into her apartment and clicked the deadbolt blindly.

"I need a drink." She muttered as she detoured into her kitchen.

A blend of sprite and berry Smirnoff in hand, Andy flopped onto her couch and gave her television a dirty look. It wasn't magically on and the remote was nowhere in sight. Her luck with the key ended with having one last bottle in the fridge. An annoyed grumble and a half-baked search later and the screen droned with an old episode of _X-Files._

Andy's knee spasmed and knocked her glass to the floor.

"Shit..." she muttered, reaching down to pick it up and glanced to the television. Flashes of a new microwave pasta cooker dominated the screen and the green neon of the cable-box's clock showed that it was now more early than late. Andy yawned and stretched, hissing sharply when the movement tugged at a tight knot of muscles from sleeping awkwardly on the couch. "Bedtime," she confirmed aloud, reaching for the remote to shut off the television. The living room was cast into a mixture of shadow and bad street lighting, and Andy knocked her foot against the back of the couch as she fumbled into the bedroom. She made to hit the light switch when she paused.

Her bedroom sported an old comforter serving as a makeshift curtain, intended to keep the offending morning sunlight from rudely spoiling a late Saturday morning, but now it only served to make her room into one large pool of inky blackness, darker than even the living room. Andy usually saw the pit that the darkness made as her own little lair she could crawl into but tonight it loomed ominously before her, more like the jutting entrance to a monster's cave.

Then the monster growled.

Andy jumped, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She felt nothing of the earlier calm that had claimed her body when the feeling had surrounded her on the street. Her heart hammered in her throat and she swore she could feel her lungs burning as her breath slowed to long, silent pulls of air. She didn't want whatever was in there to spot her. She could walk away, go back to the couch, the couch was safe, wasn't it?

The monster opened its eyes. It's pupils caught the remnants of streetlight from the living room, turning them into a pair of ghostly lamps in the exact center of the room, in fact, it looked like the body attached to the creepy eyes was on her bed.

Andy's body was frozen. Her legs didn't want to heed the rapid-fired nerve signals to _Run! _Or the more insistent _Move your ass! _The idle blip of her mind turning crude during tense situations flickered onto her thought-process but was shoved aside when the eyes _moved. _The movement was accompanied by another growl, and Andy knew she saw a flash of fangs as the beast unwound itself from it's perch on her bed. She took a step back as the eyes went a step towards her. It became a deadly dance, her backward to its forward pushes.

She stepped through a patch of moonlight and the beast entered it not a second later. The shoulders came up her chest, the head was larger than any wolf she'd viewed in the New York Zoo. The wolf was a dark reddish-brown, its eyes fading from the ghostly coloration to vivid amber that burned as it inched closer.

"Good doggie..." Andy tried her best to keep the tremble out of her voice. Dogs could sense fear, right? She held her arms out, trying to look as nonthreatening as she could. Maybe she could convince the wolf to shoo like an alley-dog met on a late night walk from work.

The wolf didn't buy what she was selling. The beast's lips curled up in a snarl and it snapped it's jaws as it growled louder, it's fangs offered up to her viewing misfortune. Its tail stood erect and it's eyes were locked on hers.

Andy could feel in her gut that the wolf was going to lunge at her, sink teeth into her throat, happily tear into her stomach... Andy also felt that she didn't want to die by a wolf in her apartment just after returning her life to a semblance of normality. She had worked hard to clamber out of the jumble of reporters all trying to get their names in print, and and... and Lilly was -finally- speaking to her again, sorta, and Doug was happy and maybe there was a chance to get back in with Nate and be happy with him again.

"I don't want to die."

The wolf halted.

Andy dropped her hands to her side, curling them into fists. "I don't want to die. I like my life!" The wolf's ears swiveled forward, then swiveled back, it resumed it's growl and crouched down. Andy knew that if she didn't do anything right now, she would never get to do anything, so she knew that she was going to ...going to...

Going to shut up that damned ringing.

Her hand shot out and spilled the glass balancing in her lap as she pressed the phone to her ear. "...'lo?"

"Andrea? You did manage to go home in one piece, correct?" Elizabeth's cultured voice drifted over the line, concern evident in it. Andy wrinkled her brow and glanced to the television; the episode's credits were rolling over the screen and the cable's clock showed that barely an hour had passed by. "Andrea?"

"Huh?" Andy swallowed, then nodded; then realized that Elizabeth wasn't a mind-reader and of course she couldn't see Andy nodding like a bobble-head. "Um, yeah. I did. Got home good. Yup."

Elizbeth chuckled, "I woke you, didn't I?"

Andy worked herself up into a sitting position, her back protesting the movement. "Yeah. S'ok though, I had a bad dream." She blinked slowly, trying to turn her brain on.

"A bad dream?"

"Uh-huh. A wolf was gonna eat me."

"A wolf?" The frown was clear even without being able to see Elizabeth's expression. "Are you certain?"

"Yup!" Andy yawned, holding the phone away for the moment. "Sorry. It was a big wolf too, all brown and creepy eyes and growly. It probably needed a good chewtoy. Dogs like chewtoys, right?"

"Wolves aren't dogs, Andrea." Elizabeth corrected. There was quiet over the line, long enough for Andy to begin the tumble back into drowsiness. "I'm going to send a friend over to check up on you. I thought that... well, what I thought doesn't matter, you're going to need someone there."

"I do?"

"Yes." Elizabeth's tone brooked no argument and Andy found herself nodding her agreement before she could stop herself. "Make yourself somewhat decent, Andrea, just in case." The line went dead and Andy scowled at it, not understanding exactly what Elizabeth was getting at.

"Hmph." She tossed the phone at the fluffy armchair to her right and hopped up. She sat right back down. "Ok, too fast." She made a face, waited for her vertigo to fade, then stood up a bit slower than before. She headed to her bedroom and paused in the doorway.

"I'm a wuss." She laughed and continued on in, undressing and setting the outfit aside. She flipped through her clothes in her closest, thinking about looking decent, then stopped. She didn't have to look 'decent'. It was her apartment and if she wanted to wear...

She pulled out a worn long tee-shirt depicting the Tasmanian Devil from looney tunes and some plain blue boxer shorts.

If she wanted to wear looney tunes and boxers, she could wear looney tunes and boxer shorts for crying out loud. Her apartment!

She slipped on the shirt and hopped into the shorts and gave herself a look-over in the mirror. She looked just dandy. If Elizabeth's friend didn't like it, they could go jump in the river. She did take a moment to make her hair look a bit more presentable, after all, she didn't want to look crazy.

A knock echoed from the front door.

Andy hurried into the living room and dropped the glass in the sink before she undid the deadbolt and reached for the chain. As she unhooked it, she forgot to do her habitual check through the peephole and rolled her eyes. She leaned to the side and pressed her cheek to the door, looking out.

The man was average looking, his eyes hidden from the baseball cap he was wearing. He lifted his head and she could see his face. He had been in the hallway earlier, talking on the phone. He frowned, then reached forward to the door, Andy gasped and tried to slip the chain back on.

The door pushed opened sent her stumbling backwards as he strode into the apartment. His eyes were distant and he very calmly closed the door behind him. Before Andy could speak he started.

"I don't want your money, I don't want your jewelry, I'm definitely not going to rape you." He gave her a mockery of a smile. "I just want to talk."

"T-talk?" Andy croaked out.

"Yeah, talk. We can talk about anything," he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "We can talk about your articles too. Yeah, let's talk about those."

Andy wasn't following him. "My articles?"

He sneered, closer now. "You're right, we don't have time to cover all of them. So we'll focus-fire down to one topic. Like, domestic violence." He was too close now and Andy was out of back-up space. She bumped into the couch and looked frantically around for another escape route to break for the door.

"O-ok, we'll talk about that." She managed to keep the panic out of her voice. "So, why do you want to go over-"

"My girlfriend, Jenny? Yeah, she was a great girl, did everything right, y'know?"

"She sounds nice-"

"She left me." His voice went cold. He threw the paper at her, but it only managed to pitfully fall between them. "She read your article. Said that it explained a lot of my behavior, yeah? Said that it convinced her that she needed to go back home to her parents. To "find herself", she said." He crossed the distance between her. "You made her leave me!"

Andy's mind went blank. "I didn't make Jenny do anything..."

"Yes you did. If you hadn't wrote that stupid pile of crap, Jenny wouldn't be gone because I yelled too much at her!" His hand shot out and seized her wrist. Barely an inch separated them now. "It's all your fault. What do you know about relationships, huh? So what if I yelled or called her stupid, huh?"

"You're hurting me."

His smile was dark. "I'll make you understand how much you hurt me." His hand squeezed and Andy could feel the bruises that would form tomorrow if there was a tomorrow.

Another knock on the door.

The man glared down at her. "Don't you say a damned thing."

Andy nodded, her throat constricting on the words she forced down.

The knock came again, more demanding.

"Stay. Here." He let go and went to the door, pulling it open enough to peek through. "What?"

"...Andrea, about tim- who are you?"

_Oh no_... Andy moaned silently. Miranda? Elizabeth sent Miranda? Was she insane? Miranda wasn't anyone to comfort anyone and certainly not able to fend off a creep!

The man stiffened. "Andrea's sleeping, I'll tell her you came back."

"Really?"

"Look, lady, we're busy and ... and..." his voice trailed off, the tail end an octave higher.

"And...?" Miranda prompted him.

"And I'll just go, ok. Look, ah. Hryuck!" He jerked towards the door, his face disappearing between the door and the wall.

Andy frowned and despite the fear, tried to peer around to get a better look. He seemed to be listening very intently to whatever Miranda was murmuring. If she wasn't worried that he would suddenly go after Miranda too, she would have moved closer.

"That's all." The man slid back from the door and opened it. He sent a look back to Andy and then to Miranda who was staring at him far too calmly. "You can certainly see yourself out."

He gulped and rudely shoved past her. Andy could hear his footsteps pounding down the hall. She went to the door to watch him take the stairs like there was a fire behind him and spun around to fix Miranda with an incredulous look. She slammed her head against the wall as she took a reflexive step back.

She didn't need to ask why the guy bolted like a bat out of hell. She could see it. Miranda's eyes were entirely far too bright and vivid. There was an intensity within them that struck a primal chord of fear deep within Andrea's subconsciousness. The normal aura of power that flowed around successful persons was thick and heavy around Miranda and it screamed to Andy's mind that she was in the presence of a predator and she needed to run. Now. Fast. That way.

Miranda's eyes widened and something akin to pain flashed in them before she glanced away. She was breathing hard and she gestured for Andy to walk into the apartment first. Andy agreed with the suggestion and hurried to get behind the couch, to put distance between them.

Miranda shut and locked the door behind her and finally met Andy's gaze. Her eyes looked a little calmer, and her smile was as gentle as a smile from Miranda could be gentle. "I brought over Elizabeth's brand of tea. We're going to need it, and then, I'm going to explain."

"Explain?"

"Everything."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

Miranda had taken control as soon as she asked Andy where she kept her electric kettle. She had directed Andy to sit on the windowsill, mentioning that being able to have the distraction of the street below would keep her from worrying over what had just happened. Andy flippantly mentioned that wasn't it supposed to be worrying, that men breaking in weren't everyday things?

Miranda only fixed her with a look of insufferable calmness and told her to sit, watch, and stay quiet until the tea was made.

Andy had taken to the directions quickly, finding it freeing that after a moment of chaos and fear, someone had her life firmly in hand and was leading her to stable ground. As she curled up underneath a fuzzy blanket, she did glance around at her apartment's view of New York and found the fear niggling into the back of her mind while she focused on the marvel of a cityscape at night.

She didn't know how much time had passed when Miranda set down a table-tray and placed two large mugs of steaming tea, along with ...were those her secret-stashed vanilla cookies! Andy glanced sharply to the kitchen as Miranda primly settled opposite her on the sill. "How did you...?"

"Apartments haven't truly changed since I first arrived in New York, Andrea, it's too easy to remember where a girl stuffs her food items she doesn't want friends to nick during a get-together."

Andy made a surprised 'huh,' sound and leaned against the sill. "So."

Miranda arched an eyebrow. "Drink your tea."

Andy obeyed, savoring the warmth that flowed down into her stomach. Miranda watched her quietly, her expression thoughtful.

Miranda coughed when Andy caught her looking and glanced out the window. She composed herself, then without looking back to Andy, began. "I was very young, little older than you when I first came to the city. I carried barely a week's worth of clothing, my diploma from my high school, and four hundred and twenty-two dollars and seventy-five cents in change. Most of that was my life's-savings, the rest was from my Aunt Sophie." She reached out and took her mug, cradling it in her palms. "I started in fashion just like you had," her lips curled into a small smile. "Assistant to the most demanding woman I had ever met. I couldn't do anything right, I just ...wasn't good enough to meet her standard of perfection." Andy blinked, wondering if the tea was drugged and she was hallucinating.

At her sputter, Miranda pulled away from the window and looked to her. "I learned. I adjusted, and when the time came, I did what I had to climb out of the tiny little pit of a job I held and into something more. Years passed, and I went from a hole-in-the-wall, to an apartment where I could breathe. Assistant to a junior editor. Oh, Andrea, what you could have done..."

Andy ducked her gaze. She also decided that she was hallucinating. Really badly.

"Elizabeth contacted me not long after I settled into _Runway_ as the new editor-in-chief. The magazine was ...stable, but it wasn't a big seller nor was it really that much of a dream job: A skeleton crew, lackluster supplies, and no designer knew our name well enough to give us the time of day."

Andy furrowed her brow, "But... that had to be over fifteen years ago. Elizabeth's younger than you, right?"

Miranda laughed. "Is that what's she's telling you? She's young? Oh, Andrea, Elizabeth's well older than I am, but we'll touch that in a little bit. Drink your tea."

Andy shrugged, and sipped some more. Her vision needed some work. Miranda was never nice. Ever. Not even in another's bad dream.

"She took me everywhere, much like she's taken you underneath her wing now. Gatherings, charity-events, meet-and-greets with, at the time, everyone who's anyone in New York. I didn't know it but she was grooming me from the very start. I learned nearly everything I know from those days. Oh, I thought she was a goddess made flesh, she was that perfect."

Andy knew how that felt. Her mind flashed back to Miranda descending the stairs in that sinfully crafted black dress with so much skin there for anyone to savor the sights...

"It was a little after I'd given birth to the twins when she approached me with an idea. Well, it was more of a suggestion and one I couldn't possibly refuse because, as she says, you have to be certain when you make the call ... refusal means death." She met Andy's gaze firmly. "Andrea, I am very, very glad you left when you did. Before I could... before I would have to have..." she coughed, trailing off, her voice suddenly tight. "Well, She offered me what I wanted to offer you: Power. Prestige. The strength to survive the world of New York's elite."

"So, she's part of a secret society?"

Miranda pursed her lips and Andy waited for the rebuke, but Miranda's expression smoothed and turned thoughtful. "You could call it that, yes. I wish you could have gone in the way it's meant to work. Not by a... mugging. Oh, your little journalistic mind would have died happy." She laughed softly, "it starts with a private party at Elizabeth's house over the weekend, much like the one you attended. However, instead of retiring with the other, normal guests around the eleventh hour, you are kept with the main host until the clock strikes one. Then, with all the doors to the guest bedrooms locked, there can be no accidents, Andrea, it happens."

"It?"

Miranda's smile was bittersweet. "It's not as scary as a one-on-one show that I'll have to offer..."

Andy's mind screeched to a halt and promptly dived into the gutter, staking out its new home.

"... but it'll do. The real event is nothing short of magical and you just know that you belong there. After the gift descends over the crowd, your benefactor offers you a place with them. You are bitten, marked, and then ... surrounded by the warmth of the Pack... you can't help but to join."

Andy blinked. "I, wait, that's what they call themselves?" She frowned. "I knew a gang of boys who called themselves the Pack. Troublemakers, Mr. Millson was always trying to get them in detention."

Miranda rolled her eyes and glanced to Andy's mug. "Have you finished?" She took a long breath when Andy nodded. "Good. Elizabeth told me, not long after my first gathering, about what happened to those bitten and left for dead. The gift doesn't come quickly, and it's more a battle of wills. You see, it fights for control within you through your dreams and subconsciousness. In some weak-willed individuals, it doesn't come at all, finding them unworthy."

Andy frowned, "So, what, I'm weak-willed?" What were they talking about?

"Not at all. You're having the dreams and you're able to sit here and talk as intelligently as you occasionally can be, when you put your mind to it and remove the foot from your-"

"Miranda!"

Miranda stopped, chastised, and coughed. "The tea is an herbal mixture designed for those with the Gift. It calms and soothes and keeps emotions from running rampant. Here, it'll keep what little human fear you have left at bay."

"Wait, what?"

Miranda gulped the last of her tea, opened her mouth to continue speaking, but Andy's shrill voice cut in before she could speak.

"You drugged me?"

"Andrea, don't be silly, does that feel like any drug you've known about to you?"

"Well..." Andy frowned. She felt almost too calm, but she knew that every sense was at its most alert. She could pick out the individual threads on the shoddy curtains, she smelled the detergent that she used to wash the linens for her bed, and if she cocked her head just so, she swore she could make out footsteps on the street tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head. "No."

"Exactly," Miranda stood and her hand shook. That presence was in the air again but this time, Andy felt like an observer looking at the beasty through a really large and thick glass plate. You could see it, you could sense it, but it couldn't come after you so you could study it. Miranda looked at her and her eyes were again far too bright for any persons' eyes to be. She let out a small huff of air and turned on her heel before coming up short.

Andy had seized her wrist, tightly.

"Andrea, let go..."

"No." Andy shook her head. "If you're not a drug-induced hallucination and this is real, I want to -see-, damn it."

Miranda's other hand pressed over Andy's wrist and the gentle, yet very firm pressure made the reporter let go. "No, Andrea ... Andy," she said the nickname without a hint of malice, her eyes very sure to lock gazes with the brunette. "This is not something you want to see without being properly introduced and told and groomed and prepared for it. It's also not very pretty outside of the gatherings, I'll assure you."

"So?" Andy pouted, the tea muddling her thoughts. "Hey, you said this wasn't a drug."

Miranda was moving towards the bedroom, her Hermes scarf discarded on a side-table. "I lied, however it'll keep you from leaping out that window when I return."

"Oh." Andy poked at the window with a frown. "I wouldn't jump out it; that would really hurt." She tapped her finger on the glass and tilted her head. "Hey Miranda?" She called out when the rustling of fabric in her bedroom stopped. "What did you want to show me?"

There was no answer.

The air in the apartment was still.

Andy huffed and swung her legs out to stand up and winced, the change in perspective making her dizzy. Which, she thought, was rather odd, when she could now pick out the tiny pulls in threads on the knitted blanket tossed over the armchair. "Huh." She made a note to bring that over to Doug later, he would know someone to fix that right up.

"Miranda?"

She walked past the entrance to the kitchen and over to the bedroom's ajar door. The light from her bedside lamp spilled out into the room, but there was no sound.

The inkling of deja vu popped into her head. The carefree relaxation of the tea didn't stop her heart from quickening it's pace, or her skin to become chilled from a cold sweat. Vaguely, the idea of all the lights on in her house and she was still a scaredy-cat came up and she shoved it back down with a scowl. She wasn't scared.

Just terrified.

Huge difference.

"Miranda?"

Andy's hand went to the doorknob and she pushed the door inward. Nothing jumped out, nothing growled, there was no evil glowy eyes staring out at her.

There was nothing in her bedroom save the giant white wolf that sat on her bed as if it was a damned queen on a throne. It calmly met her gaze with calculating blue eyes, an deciding otherworldly intelligence within them. Andy's heart thundered in her ears, but she could tell through the haze of panic that the damned thing was studying her reaction far more than any dog would, no, could ever do.

"I think I need to sit down," Andy stated. She took a step backward and the wolf got to it's- her feet as Andy's world went black.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

The voices surrounding her brought her back into awareness. Three voices, if her hearing wasn't lying to her. That quiet dulcet tone was Miranda's, there was no doubt about that. Annoyance laced her words and Andy prayed that she herself wasn't the one poking at Miranda's wrath. The second voice was male and accented lightly. It had to be Doctor Michaels, yes, the way he said her name proved it.

Oh, so they were talking about her. Great.

The final voice was heavy with concern. Elizabeth didn't have the ability to keep her voice in a soft monotone able to bring a grown man to tears, but it was distinct enough to garner a listener's attention. Andy heard her name brought up again and she quickly realized that the three were having a disagreement.

About her. Andy's survival instinct told her to not let them figure our she was back with the waking now. She managed to keep from flinching when Doctor Michaels shouted.

"You could have killed her!"

Miranda scoffed, "She's here, isn't she?"

"Physically, yes. Mentally?"

Andy could sense Miranda's expression darkening. "James, what are you straggling on about?"

Elizabeth spoke up, ever the mediator. "Miranda, she's mongrel-bitten. It's a crushing blow to one's psyche even when it's a proper introduction. When it's an attack? No one's strong enough to handle that sort of process."

"She's had the dreams, Elizabeth. You told me that those meant she was coping."

"One dream and you want to welcome her in with open arms?" Doctor Michaels snorted.

"Honestly, Miranda, six months ago you were screaming at me when I first took Andrea in-" Miranda scoffed, and Elizabeth waited a moment before pressing on. "Demanding that I drop Andrea quicker than last year's fashion."

"I didn't want you bringing her into this."

Elizabeth's voice was dry, irony lacing it. "Oh, this is quite different then. Mongrel-bred is the new chic, is it?"

"No!"

"I respect you, Miranda, and trust you to have a level head on your shoulders; explain why I am ignoring the safety of the Pack right now to listen to you defend this girl?"

"I was supposed to be her ...guide."

"Supposed to be?" Doctor Michaels sounded wary. "Miranda, is this-"

"Oh don't act like a moron James, do you think I would stoop so low as to maul someone?" She let out a sharp hiss. The doctor must have made an expression that she disagreed with. "I wanted to be the one to usher her in, but after Paris..."

"What did happen there?" Doctor Michaels asked.

Elizaeth clucked her tongue, "Miranda, you told me what happened, remember? I wouldn't break my friendship with you for anything. Andrea was an interesting girl, yes, but I wasn't going to cause emotional harm to you."

Miranda sniffed, Andy could feel the air move as she waved a hand to dismiss Elizabeth's assurance. "Don't talk about her as if she's dead already. She may have been... brought in under less-than-ideal circumstances, but that shouldn't be any concern. You were willing to accept her back then, accept her now."

"Miranda-"

"I can step in to guide her, still. You know quite well I'll keep her in line-"

"You think you're capable of taking on that responsibility?" Andy could feel the room go cold as the doctor spat out his words with a derisive laugh. If he wasn't in favor of killing her, Andy would have felt sorry for him. "You really think so, Miranda?"

"Spit it out, James."

Doctor Michaels let out another dark laugh, the sound was grating against Andy's ears. "Fine. So you can teach her, no problem there. When she succumbs to the beast and goes rabid, are you also capable of putting her down?"

Andy's mind screeched to a halt. She must have made a noise because the room was quiet. She went still again, begging them to think it's a sleep-induced sound. It worked because Miranda spoke again. "I have the highest assurance-"

"Knock of the attitude Miranda, it's unbecoming. Can you kill the girl when she turns into a monster?"

Tension suffocated Andy. Miranda wasn't answering and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear an answer. If Miranda said no, was she going to be killed anyways? Who would do it? Doctor Michaels looked barely strong enough to lift a small patient, let alone a grown woman.

"Yes."

Andy glared at Miranda in her mind's eye. What sort of messed-up answer was that? It was Andy's life on the line here, hello!

Elizabeth sighed. "All right."

"Lisa!"

"James, shush." The command in the redhead's voice stopped the protest in the doctor's throat. "We'll allow Miranda to have her fun. Every pup needs to learn the hard way, we all know this. Do whatever you please with the girl, Miranda, but when the resolve breaks and you can't do what's best for everyone involved, especially Andrea, I will. I've done it quite a few times before and I most certainly believe this won't be my last."

"Lisa, I really don't agree with this." The doctor began a new spiel, but a short growl silenced him.

"Then at the next full moon you can challenge my position. Until then, my word is law and you're going to tuck your tail between your legs, walk out of here, and keep quiet. Understand?" There wasn't a verbal response, but the door did slam a second later. Elizabeth sighed. "Miranda, the same goes for you. I'll allow this, but when the time comes, you're in no position to argue, understood?"

"Of course, Elizabeth." Miranda didn't sound chastised at all, and there was another shutting of the door. Someone murmured a prayer for guidance and the bed shifted as someone sat by Andy's hip. "You can stop playing dead now."

Andy cracked open an eye to see Miranda with a blank expression. She looked tired. Andy bit her bottom lip, wondering how to start off a conversation after what she just heard. "Hi Miranda, it's nice to see you again after a fuzzy wolf popped up in my bedroom; shame about the killing bit. How was your time after my world went ka-blooey?"

Miranda's lips pressed into thin line and her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to allow you the excuse of the tea making one have a loose tongue."

Andy winced. Oh god, she must have spoken aloud. Oh hell, Miranda was going to kill her now.

"I'm not going to kill you, will you please stop giving me those eyes." Oh, one worry off her mind then. "Also, Andrea, a baby rabbit is 'fuzzy'. A kitten can be considered 'fuzzy', as can a stuffed teddy-bear. A wolf is -not- fuzzy."

"Ok, not fuzzy. Got it."

Andy didn't get it at all, and Miranda understood that for her eyes flashed a skyward 'why-do-you-curse-me-with-morons?' look. She remained like that for a heartbeat, then pursed her lips. "Well?"

Andy blinked. "Buh?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, I did give you too strong a dose." Miranda's gaze lowered and she pressed her fingers against her temples. "Where are your questions, Andrea? You wanted to be a journalist so terribly, did you not?"

"I did! I do!" Andy exclaimed, "but my head's really fuzzy."

"Can we pretend that the word 'fuzzy' is banned from intelligent conversation?"

Andy groaned, covering her face with the pillow. She took a breath and then pushed it aside. "Fine. So. Right. Huh." She rubbed at a cheek. "All right. Um. I'm just going to ask, without actually saying what I saw, because I might still be hallucinating here-"

"How did you figure that?"

Andy flashed Miranda an 'are-you-serious?' look that rivaled the editors. Miranda actually looked impressed, for her eyes narrowed in amusement. Andy's nod was firm. "Don't interrupt my mental crisis!" She stared up at the ceiling. "What I saw last night wasn't a bad acid trip, right?"

No answer.

Andy shot up and poked at Miranda's shoulder, ignoring the unspoken rule that one never-ever touched Miranda Priestly. Ever. "Right?"

"I was told not to interrupt."

Andy took that for a yes. "Then, you're a werewolf?"

"I think the current term is 'lupus-sapient', but that's from the influx of wildlife specialists so, yes Andrea, if you want to use an outdated expression from the 17th century."

"Actually, in the 17th century, it was 'loup-garou' from the French Countryside Trials ... that you have no care for because you're not interested in them. Shutting up now." Miranda had the gall to smirk. "So, um, when can I freak out?"

"I suggest 'never'." Miranda's cheek twitched and from the haunted look that suddenly shadowed her, Andy didn't think it was from holding back a smile. "Apparently, there isn't anyone that has overcome the trauma of a mauling." She interpreted Andy's blank look as a question and continued explaining. "It means, Andrea, that you should remain absolutely calm and overly-cheerful; unless you have a death wish and want to worry a group of hyper-paranoid wolves that you're going to snap and expose them."

Andy saw red. "Oh, right. I'll take a hint from your book and just not give a shit, shall I?" Miranda made to cut in but Andy shook her head, her hands balling into fists around the blankets. "Don't. You don't have the right to say anything. What the hell do you know about keeping calm here, huh? You said it yourself, "it was an honor, so magical" - well Harry Potter's out of the fucking building, Miranda! There's no magic, no wonder. You just think I can accept this and even consider pretending that my life's still normal?"

"Yes."

"Fuck you, Miranda."

Miranda reared back, her eyes flashing. She bit the inside of her cheek, watching Andy glare at a vase. "Are you done?" At Andy's murderous look, she held up a hand, cutting the younger woman off. "No. Tell me, are you done with your little outburst? If not, please, feel free to continue. I'll resume after you're spent." Andy didn't say anything, but she knew her own cheek twitched from the effort. "You're quite right, Andrea. I have no idea what it's like to wake up after being attacked and told you're about to lose your sanity and be killed for your own safety."

Andy blinked, her anger vanishing. Miranda wasn't done, though. "I do, however, know exactly what it felt like, back before the exhilaration. I remember the sensation of walking into the twilight zone when you're led by the hand into a smaller room open to the outside. When everyone wears this filmy robes like it's the dressing room at a fashion show, before the clothes are brought out. Then the room shimmers and you grow dizzy from the power infusing the small space. Everyone has a glow to them, and your eyes are surely playing tricks on you, and no, you're not mad at all to see the image of a wolf super-imposed over the faces of these people." She took a breath, her hand shaking. "In fact, you're so sure you're not crazy, you're going to ignore the fact that now it appears that the person is the image and the wolf is standing before you."

Andy listened quietly, using Miranda's calm to coax her own emotions into settling.

"You stumble, and when you right yourself and look, you're in the middle of a circle of wolves who make a bear look like a toy. You collapse, how couldn't you, and when you wake up and assure yourself it's not a dream, the woman who took you in tells you that she's the head of a Pack of 'werewolves' and wants you to join, you have so much to offer. Oh, and there's no chance of refusal. Well, unless you're willing to be killed to keep the secret from escaping." She stopped, meeting Andy's look with utter contempt. "I think I might have a clue to what you're experiencing right now."

"Oh."

"Yes," Miranda snorted, rolling her eyes. " 'Oh'."

"You said last night that it was-"

"I know what I said, and I meant that. The second time, when it was my turn to join them, it was a wonder, and I do wish you could experience that. That I could have offered that to you."

"So I'm going to go mad then. Is it like rabies?"

Miranda patted her hand. "Don't be silly Andrea, they don't understand the potential you've shown. They're relying on outdated information and you can be sure to tell them that after this is all done."

Andy tucked away the tickle of pride for later assessment. "How many, uh, y'know..."

Miranda allowed Andy to stammer without rebuking, and shrugged an impeccably-clad shoulder. "How many have been mauled? Plenty. Mongrels aren't common, but they have happened in the past and we do survive for a very long time. How many have survived the attack? According to James, only seventeen in the last century have actually made it through the attack itself. I thought, from Elizabeth had first told me, that acceptance was ...common... for them, but I was painfully reminded last night that every single one of those seventeen that didn't kill themselves were put down for the sake of society."

"None? No one's ever ..." Andy had to look away from the answer in Miranda's eyes. Her stomach clenched painfully. "So, now what? What's going to happen to me now?"

"I don't know, Andrea."

That revelation, that Miranda wasn't sure, that Andy could possibly be in some unmarked grave in the near future welled in her throat and Andy had to choke back the sob that threatened to break. The next one was strangled and she covered her face with her hands. She needed to compose herself. One did not cry before Miranda Priestly. One didn't show weakness. They just dealt.

A hand gently pried one of hers from her face and gently tucked it in a warm hold. "It's all right, Andrea." Miranda spoke gently, her thumb rubbing along Andy's palm. That broke the dam and the next sob was loud and full, shaking the brunette with it's intensity. Tears irritated her nose as they tracked down a cheek. Andy struggled to calm down but gave up after the next gut-wrenching sob pushed out of her. She looked wildly about the room and landed on Miranda's eyes, the blue clouded with sympathy and understanding. It was a look of a woman who had been there, accepting the circumstances all too quickly.

The pair remained like that for a while, Andy crying and Miranda holding her hand, a silent sentinel. The door opened sometime halfway through the time, but Miranda had sent whoever it was away with a cold look. When Andy's sobs faded to painful hiccups, and she could only manage a shaky breath or two in place of a deep one, she took the tissue Miranda offered and wiped at her eyes. Miranda was still quiet, and Andy took the cue to try a deep breath. It ended in a broken hiccup. Slowly, Andy began the process of gathering herself. So, she was signed over to failure.

So what?

She had been expected to fail from the moment she stepped into New York. Even worse, it was guaranteed she would fail at _Runway. _She knew about the betting pool, the variable was which day she would throw in the towel. She hadn't though. Andy's will hardened. She had been the only girl to meet Miranda's demands and get noticed. She got Harry Potter. Harry Potter! Well, that had been Christian, but that wasn't the point! She had survived Miranda's wrath and what more, she had come out whole on the other end.

She had walked away. A silly bite couldn't possibly break her after Paris, after _Runway_. Not when she had walked through fire with the Devil herself.

"I won't accept that answer, Miranda."

Miranda took on a hawk-like appearance as her brow arched sharply. She didn't say anything as Andy twisted the tissue in her free hand. "So what if everyone thinks I'm going to go Looney Tunes on them. They don't know me. I won't accept failure in this, I can't. Nope. Nu-huh." Andy closed her eyes and willed the despair into a small, dark box, and shoved it behind the other issues she just had no time for. She took a deep breath. Opened her eyes. Met Miranda's steady gaze. "What's the first lesson?"

Miranda's answering smile was absolutely devilish.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

Miranda allowed Andy a half-hour to compose herself fully, get the remaining jitters out of her system, and be dressed in an outfit that rivaled the ones she 'loaned' from _Runway's_ closet. When the time was up, Andy smoothed her hands nervously over her shirt and gave a tentative look to Miranda, who was wrapping up a call to her daughters. Her affection for them shone clearly on her features and her voice was regretful as she ended the call and flipped the cellphone shut.

"How are they?" Andy asked, wanting to stave off the first few steps into bizarre-world a tiny bit longer.

Miranda tapped the phone with a nail. "Disappointed that I cannot make it to their father's house to bake the brownies for their sleep-over." She caught Andy's look. "They're children, Andrea, I'll only drive my employees into half-starvation." She walked over and gestured impatiently for Andy to turn about and show her the outfit. "Yes, I thought it was your size. Thankfully you've maintained your figure."

Andy resisted the desire to retort. Only Miranda could coo about her children and spoil them with sugary sweets in one breath, and the next cut a grown woman to pieces because she couldn't use a pair of straws as pants. Instead, she spun in place and allowed Miranda to fawn over her outfit. "Do they know?"

Miranda's expression froze. Then faltered. Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head with a measure of disappointment. "No. I wouldn't want them to know, either way." She coughed. "Let them pretend the world of monsters that go bump in the night a little while longer."

"Will you tell them?"

Miranda tilted her head, thinking. "Someday, maybe. I know Jane, she's another one in this, has a son about a few years older than my girls. She was a single mother and had to bring him here when time wasn't on her side. He's learned that secrecy is the best policy."

"They're ok with him knowing?"

"He doesn't know anything specific, simply that his mother's close friends with Elizabeth and if he wants to see the inside of an Ivy League, that's all he will ever explain to an outsider." Miranda turned on her heel and moved across the room to the door. "Come along, I've a few stops along the way before we touch on the basics."

Andy trotted to keep up, wondering how Miranda could walk in heels like a track runner in sneakers. "Is he a ... you know?"

"A Lupus? No. It's not passed from mother to child, though I do understand that a geneticist is trying to find a remedy for that."

"Why?"

"Simpler. If a child is born with the gift, then there's no need to hide a part of your life away from them. You can integrate them swiftly into the society and stress the need for discretion with proper examples." If Andy struggled, she could have sworn there was a hint of distaste in Miranda's tone.

"You disagree?"

Miranda blinked, her step faltering for a second. "Not the place, Andrea." She ushered Andy towards the stairs leading to the great room and the kitchen. "I need to speak with Elizabeth."

A breeze pushed past Andy as Miranda quickened her steps and was into the kitchen by the time Andy was at the foot of the stairs. She wondered if she would ever become used to Miranda's hot-and-cold mood, then trudged into the sunlit room. Miranda was standing, waiting for her. Elizabeth was at the sink, rinsing out a cup. She hadn't looked up even when she picked up a tray of steaks and set them into a pan. "I wouldn't doubt that any of us were hungry. Andrea, is medium-rare all right for you?" Andy choked out a sound that could be taken as a yes, and Elizabeth nodded. "Very well. James has decided to go home until the evening's events. You will be joining us, Miranda?"

"Of course, Elizabeth."

"Wonderful. Andrea, I have to apologize but I am afraid that tonight is invitational only. If you do stay, please remain in your quarters after eleven. No accidents, mm?" Andy's jaw clenched but she vocalized a cheery agreement and sat at the island counter. Elizabeth placed the third steak in and turned to face them, looking them both over.

"I told her what she needed to know." Miranda started, her voice clipped and curt. "She deserves that much."

"She does, dearie." Elizabeth rinsed her hands in the sink and wiped them on a dishtowel. If she was dismayed by Miranda's newfound formality with her, she didn't show it. "Despite what you're both clearly thinking, I did not intend for this to happen, but I also know the risks of even allowing Andrea here to live to experience any sort of metaphysical or even an actual change." She did look a bit saddened, but Andy wasn't going to relax. Barely an hour ago, Elizabeth was ready to kill her. Still was, if Andy twisted her words right.

"How long?" Both older women glanced to her. Andy pushed her hair behind an ear. "How long until that happens, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Miranda. "Some of the myths surrounding the Lupus are purely fictional and keep the masses of humanity from catching on." She checked over the steaks, then leaned against the counter, still keeping one eye on them. "Others are completely accurate; our connection to the full moon, for example."

"Connection?"

Elizabeth took two steaks off the heat and allowed them to rest as she continued. "Think about it, Andrea. The full moon tugs at everyone. Hospitals cite being busier, more children are born at the full moon, it tugs at the human psyche, why wouldn't it tug at us as well? The full moon compels a Lupus to give over to the wolf inside. Anyone bitten, either from the gatherings where they are assured to change with all their human instincts intact, or ...mongrel-bitten, where they fall into a state of depravity and live only to kill and to maim."

"Can we... not call it that?"

Elizabeth wrinkled her brow. "Call what that?"

"Mongrel. It sounds dirty."

Elizabeth plated the two steaks and handed one to Miranda, while leaving the other for herself. She took the final steak off the heat and set it aside to rest. "It is dirty, Andrea. Mongrels are..." she trailed off, trying to find the right words. " The gift we offer, the reason we become a Lupus-"

"Elizabeth, I hate that new-wave mumbo-jumbo and so do you."

Elizabeth's eyes flicked to Miranda. "Fine, the main purpose many of us take from being a werewolf, are you content with that description Miranda?" She didn't bother to see Miranda's response. "The reason is power, Andrea. Have you ever walked into the room with someone powerful and you could -feel- them?" Andy nodded, having been around Miranda and all the other top-dogs of the fashion world. "Well, becoming a werewolf amplifies everything. Your presence, your influence, your drive, your ambition. Today's society is a dog-eat-dog world, no pun intended, and this gift grants you the fast ticket to success." Elizabeth set Andy's lunch before her. "Eat. You'll need the protein."

Andy didn't feel hungry, but Miranda prodded her shoulder. Elizabeth waited until Andy took a bite, then resumed talking, "What I do is cultivate those who I see can handle that drive, make sure that they don't fade into obscurity."

"So, what's a mongrel?"

"Someone who takes their newfound abilities too far." Elizabeth's expression darkened. "They choose to focus on the depravities of human nature. Instead of being driven to succeed and make a difference in everyday life, they're content to revel in the blood lust."

"I don't understand."

Miranda spoke up now. "Jack the Ripper."

"He was the first modern serial killer. What?" She caught their amused smirks. "Oh, come on, you can't tell me that -he- was a werewolf!"

"You're right. Jack the Ripper was a name given by the press to cover a series of murders in the fall of 1888. What most don't know, or seem to understand that there are actually eleven brutal murders that occurred from the spring of that year until at least 1891, when we finally found the rest of that monster's entourage and dispatched of them." Andy tilted her head, intrigued. "Yes, Andrea, Jack the Ripper was an everyday, average human murderer. But, his and his little groupies posed as much of a threat as a mongrel on the prowl."

Andy leaned back in her chair. "The brutality of the murders made the police investigate everyone far more closely than investigations had before. Anything out of the ordinary, secret meetings, long hours unaccounted for ... all of that would put you underneath a spotlight."

"Exactly!"

"So, why be in the spotlight now? You're Elizabeth Wiltshire. You're in every newspaper and tabloid when you catch a cold."

Elizabeth's smirk was just a tiny bit patronizing. "Because humanity has made themselves immune to the fear of things that go bump in the night. It's completely normal for a bunch of snobs to gather around and make fun of the lesser people excluded from the party. Honestly, the world expects it now." Elizabeth stabbed a piece of steak with her fork. "The best hiding spots are the ones right in the open." She went quiet and the trio completed lunch with an uneasy silence.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight:**

Lunch should have been perfectly clear in allowing Andy a glimpse of what the mood of the afternoon would morph into. Andy's journalistic instincts had been honed on far too many early coffee runs to miss out when a word or a infliction of someone's name spelled out how far into the nine circles of hell Miranda Priestly was going to drag her assistants into. Of course, that was after Andy shaped up, listened, and let go of some of her self-righteous indignation; the fact that she wasn't reeling from being told that she was a monster that needed to be killed was also a big help.

Unfortunately, today was a slow one and when Elizabeth captured Miranda's arm as the three walked into the main hall, there was no forewarning for Andy. Elizabeth's smile and calm demeanor didn't help Andy's plummeting mood when she announced that 'I need Miranda for some important matters, Andrea. You don't mind, do you?'

What else could Andy say? Hey, my Miranda for the afternoon, paws off? The words burned in her throat, but she offered a jerky sort of nod and a squeak of acknowledgment. She didn't trust herself to speak, knowing that what would pour out would be some sort of half-formed insult that would end up making Andy more the fool than Elizabeth.

She learned that bit during the latter end of her and Nate's living together. Bitterly earned, it was one the better gifts she walked away from that relationship with.

Mirada seemed not too far off from Andy's line of thinking. When Elizabeth began to lead her away with a hand on her shoulder, Miranda fixed the offending appendage with such a glare that Andy was sure it would wither and die. Elizabeth herded her down the east hall, then tossed a look to Andy.

"Andrea, the view from the west pavilion is marvelous when the sun begins to set, and seeing that it's almost three ...where did the time go?" She waves off any answers. "And sunset is at 4, with the moon rise not too far behind, I suggest you return yourself to your room by then."

"Sure, Elizabeth. Uh, are you certain that Miranda-"

"Is needed on an important decision, Andrea. Honestly, it won't kill you to let her out of your sight for an hour or so."

Andy disagreed, but when the protest reached her lips, Elizabeth and Miranda were gone. Raking a hand through her hair, Andy remained still until she was certain she was calm enough to move without throwing something expensive.

So. No life-lessons. No Werewolf 101 classes. No one-on-one time with a Miranda that wasn't interested in demeaning an ex-assistant. Just Andy and ... well, Andy. Actually, Andy and a sunset, because sunsets were pretty and would take one's mind off of one's ex-boss. One hoped.

Walking out onto the veranda, Andy did have to give credit to Elizabeth's landscapers. The gentle hill sloping down to the distant lake was paved with a stone path that worked with the curve of the land, weaving through cultivated gardens that were clinging to the last remnants of summer before the November frosts sent them into dormancy. From her place, Andy could see the tops of fountains trickling water over fanciful statues and engravings. At the farthest end of the path, a boathouse nestled on the edge of the lake.

It was an odd juxtaposition, if Andy thought hard enough and poked at all sides of her thinking. The savagery of a werewolf, not to mention a werewolf pack imprinted over this pastoral scenery made Andy's brain hurt trying to piece the two together. She could see the wolf inside Miranda, now that she knew what she was looking at. The expectation that everyone knew their place. The territorial vice-grip over what was hers. The casual demand that one did their job perfectly, as to fall short was to damage the pack. It even fit with the fact that while Miranda was surrounded by models, when she spoke, or breathed, or even blinked, attention went to her. She had a command about her that swept one up.

Miranda couldn't help but to be Miranda. With the additional piece of the infinite puzzle that was the editor, Andy understood Miranda's decisions more, and regretted her own decisions even further.

"It started when Man learned to tame fire; or if you're of a religious bent, when Man was cast far from the Garden and forced to scrape for survival on the land." Doctor Michaels' voice startled her. The doctor was leaning on the door frame. When Andy yelped, he moved towards her, then past her, to lean his elbows on the railings.

"What started?" Andy asked, her heart in her throat as she came down from being spooked.

"Man ruled the plains and the forests during the day with weapons fashioned of bone and stone. When night fell, Man became helpless against the predators of the night. With no teeth, no claws, and no fur or scales as armor, man was a baby rabbit waiting for the fox to snatch it from the burrow." James stopped, then gestured to the sunset. "One year, on the last nights of autumn, but before winter's chilly grasp was firmly curled about the land, one of the warriors of a clan went on a vision quest to find a way to protect their home from the creatures in the dark away from the firelight.

He came upon Wolf struggling to bring down a mammoth. You see, while wolf had the claws and the teeth, he did not yet have the understanding to work in numbers to win battles. The warrior helped the wolf bring down the mammoth and asked the wolf to share his campsite for night was coming over the land.

Wolf agreed, and watched over the sleeping man in exchange for a share of the kill. The next morning, the two did not go their separate ways. Instead, the man asked if the wolf would return to his clan and protect them during the long winter nights. In return, the clan would feed and sustain the wolf."

Andy tapped her nails along the railing. "Is the ending: "And thus, Dog came into being?"

He chuckled. "Let the story run it's course. The wolf refused the man, but offered a counter-offer. It would teach the man how to wield fang and claw to protect his own people if in return, the man would teach the wolf how such a defenseless animal could survive.

The two agreed and the day was spent in teaching. When the full moon rose, there stood two wolves in the light. That next morning, the warrior took the wolf back to the clan and showed him how a group was stronger than the individual. He led the wolf to observe a mammoth hunt with all the clan's hunters working in unison. The wolf saw how the young were protected by the clan, and thus, more survived.

The wolf learned the strength of a pack, and deemed the trade fair." James stopped, fixing Andy with a look. "Since that time, werewolves roamed the clan of humanity, bolstered with the strength of the wolf. And the wolf? Well, despite the hunting and culling, the wolf always makes a come-back. It took man's cunning and adaptability."

Andy rested her chin in her hands. "Fascinating story. Am I supposed to be inspired to go become a environmentalist?" James shook his head. "No? How about a vigilante?"

"The story's just a story, Andrea. It's not supposed to inspire you to anything."

"Then why tell me it?"

"Because it shows what we're blessed with."

"And ...that is, what? Fleas?"

Doctor Michaels took her flippant remarks calmly. "That we are survivors."

"Humanity on a whole is a survivor."

Doctor Michaels shrugged. "One could debate that. However, humanity is burdened by a brain that thinks entirely too much. We stress the little things, grow bored and complacent. Werewolves though, you and I? We know that when you strip it all away, it's back to defending your camp against the things in the dark coming to eat you. Most successful folks follow this without understanding it. But a werewolf? We know that it's the law of nature, and when we're done climbing the ladder in our human lives, we go back to the basics and let our other side out too."

"Not following."

"Basics, Andrea. We're about going back to the basics. You hunt, you fight, you defend, and when it's needed, you kill. You don't care if Jessica feels hurt because you've explained that she's a hopeless sod who couldn't walk backwards chewing on gum if she wanted to. You don't care that you step on someone to rise up; after all, they should have done the same. It's the law of survival."

"So we're all about offering a big "fuck you" to everyone else?"

"Look at Miranda. Is that what she does?"

Andy wordlessly shook her head. She pushed off the rail, keeping eye contact. "Why are you telling me this? You want me dead."

"I want a lot of things, child. Many of them you'll never understand." His eyes caught the glow of the sunset, turning them gold in the dying light.

Andy fidgeted. "Fine. Say that I make it through, or whatever. What advice would you give to me?"

"If you weren't about to go rabid and lose your humanity?" He stroked a hand over his chin as she nodded. "I would tell you to look at the story. We gained these gifts to go above and beyond the rest. We also lost a bit of ourself to the wolf. Find that balance between the monster and the man."

"How?"

Doctor Michaels' stared quietly at her. "That's a question only you can answer. Some of us have leaned too far toward our humanity and thus put emotions like jealously into the mix, losing the simplicity of our nature. Others, like you are prone to become, stray too far the opposite direction and live only to hunt and kill."

"And you?"

"I treat the weak when they have not the strength to do so for themselves."

"Is Miranda leaning too far towards-"

"Miranda? Hardly. You could call _Runway_ her den, the little workers her underlings in the pack, and the success of the magazine a perfect kill." Admiration was obvious in his voice. "She needs some work in the personal aspects of her life, but I think any top-career woman would have problems there."

Andy couldn't argue that point. Her eyes went to the lip of the sun disappearing over the tree-line. "Elizabeth said to be in the room by now."

Doctor Michaels nodded. "You smell human. There could be an accident." He reached the door in five steps, watching her the whole time.

"Doctor Michaels!" She called as he went indoors. When he ducked his head back out, she rubbed a hand along her arm. "Is that story true?"

"No. I made it up. Get to your room, Andrea." His words were inflicted with a sense of urgency and after a beat of hesitation, she followed him inside.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

The veranda's emptiness struck a chord inside Andy as she stood staring at the door back into the house. Uncertainty prickled at the base of her neck. Being told that she was going to grow fur, fangs, and bay at the moon wasn't really her thing. It was there, but behind a nice pane of glass. She could brush it aside for the night, couldn't she?

The prickle at the base of her neck caught her attention again and she absently rubbed a hand along the short hairs there. She wasn't chilly, the autumn weather was a bit warmer this year than previous. Besides, her outfit had enough layers and fabric to keep her warm without a jacket, though not by much. She knew it wasn't the story, or from Doctor Michaels' presence earlier. Her gaze roamed over the terracotta tiles beneath her feet, studying the mosaic she had stepped over previously. It was an abstract circular pattern that spiraled out to encompass the entire veranda. Each arm of the pattern pulled her gaze to the center were a silver disc shimmered with the last rays of the sun.

As intriguing a pattern as it was, it wasn't what made her hair stand up. She frowned, then shook her head once with a quick jerk to try and clear away the prickle. She made it to the door in seven steps, careful to not scuff the silver in the center. Her hand felt surprisingly cool against the metal of the door handle, despite the mild weather. She pulled the door open and couldn't help that her journalistic instincts all pointed to a missed detail somewhere.

Inside, the house was more than warm. It was toasty enough to make Andy wish she could tug off the fleece long-sleeve she was wearing. She folded her sleeves up to her upper forearms, hoping that would suffice until she could weave through the large house to her quarters in the east wing. Up ahead, where the parlor and foyer were, voices carried through the halls back to her. Andy picked out Miranda's voice first off, the tone impatient and unamused. Elizabeth's lighter, more airy accented voice filtered into her hearing next, then a few voices she'd never be able to match to a face without seeing the speaker.

She paused in the middle of the walkway and looked to her left. Elizabeth had once shown her the old servant stairwells in the back of the house in case she had ever needed to escape a party or a function without making it obvious with a dash up the main parlor stairs. Sure enough, tucked behind a large potted frond was a small alcove that turned into wooden stairs that led up into the dim second-story. She took the stairs two at a time and shut the door behind her. She felt like an intruder, sneaking through the back ways to avoid everyone. Her quarters were closer to the parlor stairs, so even though she was tiptoeing and doing her best to stick to the maid passages through the hall, she found herself staring out over the parlor railing down to floor below.

A few seconds after she peeked over, a party of one man and three women flowed into her view from underneath the balcony she stood on. Andy recalled that the hall below her led off into the den. The four wore ankle-length linen robes that Andy saw tied in the front, just underneath one's sternum. She recognized three of them as Elizabeth, the good doctor, and Miranda, but she couldn't attach a name to the fourth woman. In the pale light of the parlor's wall-mounted lamps, Andy could make out the line of their bodies. They were nude beneath the robes, that much was clear. So clear that Andy fought down a blush that she could note that the hours that Miranda spent at the gym and in yoga classes worked. Worked well, in fact.

The front door closed and voices came from the part of the foyer that Andy's spot wasn't able to peek on without her moving or leaning over the rail. Voices preceded a man and a woman, both wearing the light linen robes. They went to Elizabeth first, air-kissing her, then to Miranda, giving her the same greeting.

"Shannan, Joseph. I hope the drive was lovely." Elizabeth cupped the woman's, Shannan's, chin and tilted it up so she could stare into her face. After a second, Shannan dropped her gaze and took a step back. Elizabeth seemed satisfied and repeated the gesture with the man, Joesph. He too, dropped his gaze without a sound and took a step back. "Don't be late again. It's a hassle to have Martin wait at the front gate to lock up after you arrive. He does have a family to go home to."

"My client was adamant I didn't leave the office until the paperwork came back signed and legalized. I couldn't drop everything without risking losing a hefty closing sum."

"Really." Elizabeth's lips pursed. "Next time, don't schedule a meeting so close to the moon. All we need is you losing control and mauling up a pretty little celebrity."

Shannan's gaze stayed lowered. "Yes Elizabeth." She seemed to shrink behind Joesph. He looked up at her movement.

"James told me we had a guest for tonight?" He asked Elizabeth, fiddling with the hem of one sleeve absently.

"Did he?" Elizabeth's attention slid to James, and then uncannily slid upwards to the balcony. Andy pressed herself into the shadows, hoping that she hadn't been spotted. Miranda's gaze followed the other woman's, and while Elizabeth paid more heed to the darkened hall on the other side from Andy, more to where her room was located, Miranda's was unerringly on her, even with the shadows offering cover. "My surprise is spoiled then."

"A new member?"

Elizabeth's attention went back to her party. "The other sort of guest, Joesph. I detest having loose ends." Miranda's brow shot up, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she swept her gaze back to Elizabeth. "I send my staff away for a reason, there could be an accident. However, this guest can't leave so ...it's a loose end that I have no control over." She patted Miranda's shoulder. "Come, let's move to the south veranda. The moon's already risen."

The six disappeared below her and their voices faded, but Andy gave it a count-to-120 in her head before she stepped from her cover and hurried to her room. The hallway was still dark, Elizabeth kept the lights off in the parts of the house she wasn't in, and probably suspected Andy was already tucked away in her room for the night. It didn't help that it only fed into Andy's overactive imagination about something jumping out to eat her. The prickle at the base of her neck returned as she pushed open her door.

The moon's luminous gaze made the prickle turn into a sharp tingle that rocketed down her spine and settled in her toes. It hadn't been painful, but the jolt startled her. Andy stared at the window opposite the door and out to the full moon hanging low over the horizon. She used to love the autumn moon rise when she was younger, laying out in a Ohio field, munching on candy-corn and making up a story about how the moon and the sun were always playing tag. Now, though, framed with heavy curtains, the moon was a sinister intruder. The jolt from the initial glance faded into a heat that spread from the base of her spine, up into her hair, cradling her from behind like an old flame that never truly left one's heart. She stepped forward and yanked the curtains shut, blocking out the silver sight.

The room was cast into darkness. Andy blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sudden visibility change. Even with the moon gone, the warmth clung to her. Then it changed again, now to the telling weight of eyes upon her back. The presence felt in her apartment a night before, it seemed like a lifetime to her now, was once again behind her. Andy clenched a fist.

"I know you're there." Her voice was a hoarse whisper, the previous night's fear already seeping into her bones, chasing away any warmth she once had. "You can't do anything to me. You're just a hallucination. Miranda said so. You're a dream-thing, so just ...go away."

The monster gave no response.

Andy felt her nails bite into her palm. "Whatever you are, whoever you are. I'm better than you. I'm stronger than you. Miranda believes I can overcome this, so ...just go away. Ok?"

It snorted. It sounded like laughter, if a monster-wolf could laugh.

Laughter that ticked her off. With all the fury she could muster, Andy spun about and faced the beast. The beast was shrouded by the room's darkness but the eyes still held that ghostly fire. It stood in the doorway, made ever larger by the gloom behind it.

The fear seized her heart and squeezed. The warmth vanished. Andy was alone, she was trapped, and this time she wasn't going to wake up. Miranda wasn't here. In fact, she was going to fail Miranda by becoming wolf-food. "Miranda ..."

"_She offered me what I wanted to offer you: Power. Prestige. The strength to survive the world of New York's elite."_

"_...They don't understand the potential you've shown..."_

_Miranda's answering smile was absolutely devilish._

The wolf before her growled, but the sound was indecisive, and confused. It's prey was supposed to cower, not daydream.

Andy's mind filled with pictures and sounds when Miranda's name went over her lips. The wolf in the door disappeared from her attentions.

_There was nothing in her bedroom save the giant white wolf that sat on her bed as if it was a damned queen on a throne._

The wolf in the room snarled.

The wolf in her mind only stared quietly, studying her, appraising her, and finding her worthy. Miranda had found her worthy, and damn it, she was going to follow Miranda's decision. Andy opened her eyes and stared defiantly at the menace. She stepped forward.

"I faced down the devil in her own lair. I walked through hell and came out unscathed. You think you're scary? You have no idea. You're nothing, you're a puppy. A cute, fuzzy, puppy." She took another step forward.

The wolf lunged. Teeth bared, it aimed for her throat. It's front paws hit her like a freight-train and she toppled backwards towards the window. Warm breath bathed her throat, and she felt the graze of fangs. Her heart stopped, her eyes locked with the amber of her attacker's and then she pushed back.

A dark shape slammed into the lunging wolf and threw it from her. Andy felt the sill slam sharply into the back of her head and slumped with a cry of pain to the floor. Two wolves squared off before her, all fangs and snarls and growling. They circled each other in her blurry vision.

She felt nauseous. Perhaps if she just closed her eyes for a little while ...

"Wake up!"

What? She was awake.

"Damn it, wake up!"

Why was someone shouting. She could hear them just fine.

"I knew you'd be trouble from the start." A sharp sting skittered along her cheek as whoever was yelling slapped her.

"Ow!" She whimpered, then yelped as the sound made her head pound. "That hurt!"

"I would rather have you hurt than murdered." Hands settled under her arms and tugged her upright. "Come on, shake off the blow to the head. We need you up and able to run."

Run? Andy blinked once, twice, and winced at the bright light assaulting her vision. A third blink cleared her vision enough to see that she was still in her room, the wolves were gone, and it was a man's hands holding her up.

"Can you stand on your own?"

Andy turned to meet the anxious Doctor Michaels' gaze. "What are you-"

"You're not safe here."

"I – damn straight I'm not safe. You all want to kill me!"

"That's not the important part. The important part is that something's not right."

Andy fixed him with a "no, really" look that Lily had perfected when they were going to High School. She had had it used on her so much that it was perfectly fine to toss it on others.

He caught the meaning instantly and let go, watching her stumble to gain her bearings. "This isn't the time. Something's not right."

Andy wondered when it was that she crossed into the twilight zone. "I'm lost. This morning ...you wanted to kill me because you guys think I'm this close from snapping." She rubs the back of her head. "Now you want me to trust you and just flee because you said so?"

He nodded. "Do you have another choice?"

"I could stay in here."

"And in here, you're a sitting duck."

"What are you so worried about? You want me dead."

"There's been only two times I've seen Miranda Priestly worry. The first time was when she was worried about the custody battle with her first husband. Greg or Jacob or Johnson." He stares at the window. "When Elizabeth mentioned you tonight was the second."

Andy watched him watch the moon. "Miranda's scared for me?"

"I would think so." His expression was blank. She neared him and tried to meet his eyes, but he was fixated on the moon. His eyes shimmered oddly between their normal color and the amber of a wolf.

_The wolf was a dark reddish-brown, it's eyes fading from the ghostly coloration to a vivid amber that burned as it inched closer.  
_  
The realization hit her gut like a block of cement and she backed up hard against the wall, her heart stopping for an instant. "Oh, my god."

Time slowed down as he turned towards her, his face superimposed over the features of a large wolf. "I think Miranda has many valid reasons to be terrified for you tonight, Andrea. You should have locked your door." His straight, immaculate teeth flashed to fangs that made steak knives look like toothpicks. The flickering of the two, the man and the beast, quickened to the point where it wasn't obvious what was the real image. "You should have left New York the day you left Runway."

Andy couldn't breathe. She was a caged rabbit and he was moving to block her in.

"Run, Andrea."

The order was a starting gun for her muscles. She pushed off that back wall and tore towards the door, feeling the brush of air as an arm reached out to grab the air where she just was. The hallway behind the door was a gaping maw of darkness, but it was a better survival tactic then staying in the room. She bolted out and had the thought to turn around and grab the door handle. Doctor Michaels, now a pony-sized wolf, snarled and lunged too late to catch her before the door slammed shut with a loud thud. Andy stood in the bleak hallway terrified, but alive.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten:**

Underneath the instinctual rabbit-flight syndrome that her brain was locked into, Andy's intellectual mind quickly processed that though the door was heavy and while a normal wolf couldn't possibly figure out how to open a door, a werewolf was more than capable of using the same level of human intelligence. The sound of nails scrabbling over wood pushed her fear into overdrive, but she had to think.

She was good at thinking.

"Ok, Andy, focus." She coached herself. She pulled in a shaky breath and held it for two seconds, then exhaled. She repeated it. After the second exhale, she felt calmer and less flighty. Good to have one's head in a life-or-death situation! Her heart wasn't thundering in her ears, and her mind was slowing down to process her next move. She saw enough horror movies that to run without a clear plan was to get eaten by the monster. To stay in one spot and panic was another good way to get killed.

Nails scrabbled at the door.

"Shiiiiiit." She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. She knew from the tour that the other rooms down the wing were similar to her own. One exit in and out. No-go. There was the parlor staircase, but the others were around that area and she wasn't keen on bumping into them if they all were growing fur and fangs.

A flash of white appeared at the far end, close to where the back ways twisted to the maid hallways. Andy turned to get a better look and her heart skipped a beat.

Miranda, if the large ghostly-white wolf was indeed Miranda, stood at the corner of a hall. Her eyes glowed an eerie blue that Andy could pick up even with the distance between them. Miranda had always held the ability to make Andy freeze like a rabbit before the fox, but the addition of being a wolf who's fangs were probably bigger than her steak knives made it worse. Andy felt pinned underneath the stare she knew so well from the _Runway_ offices. Miranda blinked slowly, then the expression shifted. The piercing stare morphed into a questioning glance of how Andrea could possibly be so dimwitted as to just stand there gaping like it was the latest Cinnabon sale at the corner market.

Andy could work with that gaze. That gaze was familiar and if one wanted to keep their heads (or their jobs) they leapt up and obeyed it. She closed her eyes, heard the whispery "I love my job" deep within some recess of her mind, and opened her eyes, ready to do whatever needed to be done.

The wolf was gone. It didn't matter. Thinking didn't matter. When one thought, she could miss the elevator to make that coffee arrive before Miranda. Or miss the order to grab skirts. Or screwed up her escape.

An unearthly howl shuddered from behind her and the hallway shook with the force thrown against the closed door.

Her footfalls thudded over the carpet as she raced to the corner. She whipped out her hand and used it as a brace on the wall to balance the turn down the narrower hall. The walls shuddered again. She grit her teeth and lowered her head, picking up her speed. Another slam against the door ended with a sickening crack. Apparently a werewolf didn't need to remember how to open a latch, they just had brute force. She weaved through the back passages from memory alone. Left here. Right here. Right again. Skip the middle door.

There! The stairwell's door was ajar. Somewhere behind her, another resounding crack of wood blasted through the halls like a shotgun blast, and then a victory snarl. Her heart climbed into her throat as she almost took the steps head-first in a dive. Down the steps, past the plant. Into the glow of the hall. There was no sound save for her heartbeat thundering in her ears, and her breath coming fast and panicked.

Where had Elizabeth sent the group? To the south veranda? Andy furrowed her brow and stepped cautiously out into the hall. Nothing sprung at her. No eyes, no growls, oh where the fuck had Elizabeth said the rest were? Could she get to anywhere before the wolf-that-was-Doctor-Michaels barreled down the stairs with fangs bared?

Stairs. Oh god, she left the door open.

Andy remedied that with a quick shove of her hand, and then, inspired by the horror movie marathons she had cowered underneath blankets with Nate, she pushed the large potted plant before the door, hoping that it would stall another brute-force attempt. She marveled at her handiwork for a fraction of a second, then bolted down the long corridor to the foyer with the low lights and the memories of flimsy robes that weren't thick enough to be counted as fabric.

The doors were shut, but as Andy tugged down on the latch, they opened easily underneath her hand, without the squeak she'd been dreading. Thank god for the vanity of the rich and famous, she offered silently as she jumped the steps down to the circular drive. Her heels clacked loudly in the surprisingly calm night, but if she was lucky, one werewolf was trying to figure out how to move plants, and the other ones were ... well ... were somewhere not here and not so close as she could feel the heat of their breath.

"One of you has to have left the keys in the car." She mutters as she skids to a halt besides a dark-colored Mercedes-Benz that probably cost more than all of Andy's expenses since before she was born. The door was unlocked. Andy allowed herself a moment of exhilaration, dear god she was going to live, and then slid into the driver's seat. Her elation deflated. The ignition was bare. No keys in the glove box, or hidden on the visior.

"No! Damn it, come on!" She smacked the wheel in frustration and then froze as it honked in indignant retaliation. "Shit!" That mistake had cost her any lead she had gained. She never moved so fast as she did tearing out of that car.

As her feet touched the pavement, the first howl ringed out over the grounds. It sent a shiver straight through her nervous system and stopped her heart. By the time the car door barely missed her hand as she swung it shut, another wolf had joined in, the howl becoming some sort of stucco duet.

Andy didn't want to stay around to see how many others joined in. Like a runner at the sound of the starting gun, she tore away from the circle of expensive cars and followed the winding driveway. Her breath hurt as she struggled to suck it through her lungs quickly – she had never been a good sprinter - and her knee ached with each step. Heels weren't made for life-or-death dashes along brick.

She wasn't far along the drive when the pack fell in step behind her. Now it was a race to reach the gate and the road beyond it. There, she had a chance to hail down a passing car. Here she had little more than a few yards, and even that was falling away fast. She wondered if she turned around, would she see death in their eyes? It sure clung in the air, spurred on by the heat of the wolves' breath just at her heels. She could feel the dampness of their spittle, and the steel of their fangs as they teased her, drawing their mouth close enough to brush against her ankles, then back away.

There wasn't enough time to kick off her heels as she reached the gate. She would have to climb in them, maybe even kick them off at anything that tried to get at her. She managed a stumbled, but successful jump and started to work her way up along the vines of iron, thanking herself for going to that gym last month during the trial-period. Now, if she could just swing her leg up and get it hooked around ...

Fangs tore through her skin and muscle like they were tissue-paper and clamped down over the bone. Pain seared up her leg and Andy's grip fumbled. The wolf shook her leg like a rag-doll and she crashed back onto earth hard, stars dancing before her as she struggled to fight blacking out. It still had a firm hold on her, tugging backwards now. It was black in the silverly splash of moonlight that blanketed the drive, and it's teeth were stained even blacker from the blood.

She hurt, but she wasn't hurt enough to take being eaten alive lying down. With a yell to bolster her own faith, moreso than startle the wolf, she kicked out with the bitten leg and grabbed her shoe from her still-not-a-chew-toy leg. Then, with the two-inch heel, she shifted upward and then forward, driving the heel into the wolf's eye. "Get off!"

The wolf instantly let go, crying out in agony as it shrank back from her, it's left eye shut tight. She didn't worry if she damaged it permanently, she just wanted it to stop biting her. She kicked her other heel off, and used the gate to work herself to her feet. She looked behind her.

She could count six wolves. The closest was the one she had injured. Then Miranda, her back to Andy, in a staring-contest with a shaggy, gold wolf who looked twice her size. Then two more wolves, both a rich, chocolate brown. They flanked the final wolf, the one approaching up the drive.

The one who had started all of this. Andy couldn't tell if the wolf was more red than brown in the moonlight, but she knew those eyes. Those haunting, ghostlike amber eyes that cut through her. The wolf in her room. The wolf in her apartment.

The damned wolf that had pinned her down in the middle of the driveway and tore into her shoulder like it had been the last supper.

The wolf was already shimmering as it loped up, it's image flickering from beast to man, in a reversal of the way the Doctor had changed. Every step, the wolf appeared less and less, and the human appeared more and more, until her attacker stood naked before her.

Andy's eyes widened. "You!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Ten:**

Elizabeth's lack of clothing only heightened the strange aura of predation and power that swirled around her. Her answering smile to Andy's outburst was cold, and the twinkle in her eye held a malicious gleam that bode no good will. " 'You!'?" She mocked, "surely you can be more eloquent in your responses, Andrea." Her fingers clutched the fur of the chocolate wolves flanking her; the surreal picture of a hunting goddess with her sacred animals. She twisted her head to stare down at Miranda, who had broken from her stand-off to prowl closer to Elizabeth.

"Miranda, I suggest you go back to the house now. The night's activities aren't over and I don't need you wound up and irritable." She stretched her hand towards the white wolf, and quickly took it back before Miranda's teeth could break the skin. "If you're going to have an attitude, you don't get to stick around," she sniffed, and then caught sight of the whimpering wolf that had ripped into Andy's leg earlier. "Brianna?"

Brianna, if that's whoever the damned wolf was, responded with another pathetic whimper and crawled on her belly to prostrate herself before Elizabeth, exposing her throat. Elizabeth knelt down and crooned softly to the wolf as she checked her over, halting her hands at her eye. "What-"

"Tell her not to bite me next time, and I'll refrain from jabbing her eye out!"

"You did this? You?" Elizabeth's tone was unbelieving, and Andy's indignation must have shown on her face, because Elizabeth straightened and stormed right at her. Only the gate behind Andy prevented her from backing up from the furious woman. She looked livid, and her hazel eyes flashed dangerously. It looked as if it took all her willpower to refrain herself- from what, though? - and she turned her head just enough to be able to look the pony-sized wolves in the eyes. "Back to the House."

Four of the wolves let out small wuffs of agreement, dropped their gaze, and turned tail; beginning the trek back to the house as Elizabeth commanded. The fifth wolf, however, kept her gaze locked on Elizabeth, her ears pricked forward, and her tail held high. Andy knew enough from Animal Planet that those weren't "yes, ma'am" signs. Of course, Miranda never 'yes, ma'am'ed' anyone, so she probably didn't even have that in either her wolf or her human vocabulary.

"Miranda..." Elizabeth frowned, then glared at the larger of the two brown wolves, who had paused to see why his packmate hadn't followed. "James, I trust that you can persuade her. If need be, sully that pristine coat of hers. Blood can always wash out."

The larger, Andy realized that the bigger size meant 'male', wolf turned a wide circle and loped back up. He growled low, pushing forward into Miranda's space. Andy felt a vague sort of fascination with the idea that she might see Miranda Priestly lose her composure. After all, wolves didn't kow-tow with haughty sneers, right?

Animal Planet hadn't covered werewolves, though.

Miranda didn't budge. Her ears flicked back against her skull in displeasure, but there was no snarl, no hackles, nothing but a very wolfish version of her trademarked cool disapproval. Andy could probably connect the scene with a designer forgetting the one dress that Miranda had enjoyed at his latest show, but the firm press of the gate into her lower back made the image vanish. This wasn't Runway's offices. This was a lonely driveway in the middle of the woods, and it was slowly dawning on Andy that this might just be her last night ever.

"Miranda..." her voice was shaky. She stopped, sucked in a breath, and tried again, struggling to keep her voice firm as she raised it. "Miranda." She waited until she was sure Miranda was looking at her. "J-just," damn it, she was stuttering now, "just do as she says, ok?"

Miranda's eyes narrowed in displeasure. Elizabeth smirked. "That's a good girl, Miranda. Listen to Andrea now."

Andy forced herself to shove all the creeping sensations of fear down and matched Miranda's look. "Damn it, Miranda, if I get hurt, it's just me. If you get hurt, who's gonna take care of the twins, huh?" It was a low blow, but if Andy was going to ...end up hurt, she didn't need Miranda sharing in the pain. Besides, Miranda seemed to be one of the factors in this drama, and if she was removed, perhaps there could be a chance that Elizabeth would allow her to leave. Alive, and not in a body bag. The sting of her words reflected in Miranda's eyes and she slipped past James without further responses. She trotted up the long drive until she was a pale silhouette in the night. Then, she was gone. It hurt watching what was quite possibly her only ally leave, but Andy's choice had been right; Elizabeth didn't look as willing to lash out and hurt her now.

"I should have listened to her when she first brought you up in conversation." If Andy closed her eyes, she could imagine Elizabeth talking over a shared glass of wine. "She mentioned that you were nothing but surprises, day after day. That Harry Potter fiasco, well, that cemented you as potential indeed." Elizabeth circled closer as she spoke. "She saw in you what I saw in her: a kindred spirit, a woman who could embrace the Change and make it worth so much more than howling at the moon. Then, you did what she couldn't."

"What couldn't she do?"

"Leave." Elizabeth's eyes glittered with dark merriment. "You took the offer and walked away from it."

"She never ... she never offered me anything."

"Didn't she?" Elizabeth canted her head. " 'Everyone wants to be us'. 'I see a great deal of myself in you'? Isn't that what she said to you mere moments before you bolted like a rabbit?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Mere preludes to the question, Andrea. But you refused her, refused everything she stood for." Elizabeth waited until Andy nodded her agreement. "That was when I decided that you would be given the Change."

"Why?"

"Why? Because it would haunt Miranda for the rest of her life, that's why. Instead of you, a packmember, learning all that We can offer, under her guidance; you become one of the lost mongrels that must be put down for the sake of the Pack; a beautiful revenge."

Andy blinked. She was revenge? "Why?"

"Is that all you can say at the grand reveal of the tale? 'Why'?" Elizabeth blew out a breath. "Put some effort into it, would you?" She shook her head, then continued. "Because Miranda refused me. Oh, not the Change, obviously, but everything else I wanted to give her. Look at her, she's worth far more than Beta status." Andy couldn't help but agree with that. "I wanted her to become my companion, be my equal in every way. She turned me down."

"You're doing this because she didn't want to sleep with you?" Andy repeated it slowly, as if to make sure she heard correctly. Then: "Wait, what did you do?"

Elizabeth laughed. "It's not obvious? I bit you, restraining myself (as only an Alpha can) to make sure the Gift was passed on, and then without the reassuring aura that a newly changed pup needs, watch you go rabid and then give Miranda the order to kill you." Oh, well, when she put it that way, it sounded so everyday-like.

"So this is the big reveal before you release the hounds?"

"Unfortunately, no." Elizabeth scowled, and the irritation from earlier returned to her features. "Perhaps it could have worked before you wrecked Brianna's eye, but not now. Now, you're blooded." She said that as if Andy should know what it meant. "The majority of the Pack won't dare to bare fang at you now." Elizabeth held up a finger. "Don't you dare say 'why' again, I might as well explain."

"Undoubtedly James told you some romanticized story about how Man and Wolf became one, right? Probably ended with some warmhearted fable of how we shared cultures and now the two were stronger for the whole." She snorted. "Let me tell you the truth:"

"It starts the same way; Man was cast out of the Garden, Man mastered the flame, whatever version suits you best. However, Man wasn't weak. Man learned how to adapt, used his cunning to craft tools and weapons to level the playing field with predators. A man went out into the wilderness, seeking greater knowledge of the hunt."

"What's the difference from this and the first story?."

"Wolf didn't answer Man. A spirit that thrived on the hunt, on the kill did. The Native Americans called it the Wendigo, a part of the natural order, and it saw in that man the ability to correct the lack of predator's aspect in humanity. So, the Wendigo created the first werewolf but he was a monster who slaked his appetite on blood and death. The werewolf killed the tribe's best warriors, and then the chief, but his bloodlust didn't stop there. He went after the younger men, then the women and children. Finally, only his son was left, and the the first werewolf died on his own son's spear."

"I think Cain and Abel covered the story of the first murder with a bit more tact."

Elizabeth shushed her. "The story isn't done, or would you rather I kill you now?" Andy shook her head. "I thought not. Now, the story might have ended there if not for the fact that the werewolf had managed to bite his son, thus delivering the Wendigo's essence into the boy. The boy, barely able to hold a spear properly, took the Change and became, not a monster living only to hunt and kill, but a werewolf who could master the primal instincts with the reasoning of man. He was able to walk among the tribes of humanity and it was within him that the strength and predatory prowess of the Wendigo was used to it's full potential."

"He was the first Alpha of the first pack, his absolute mastery of both the beast and the man granting him an aura to control the Wendigo essence in the other werewolves he created. As long as an Alpha controlled the pack, there was no chance of the slavering beast returning. Over the generations, two strains were discovered. The lesser, weaker strain was called the Follower Strain, or Gamma. This strain needed the Alpha's aura to control it, least the Wendigo's hunger break through. That, Andrea, was what I intended for your fate."

Andy didn't much like the cruel smile dancing over her ex-mentor's lips. "Intended? Intended is a past tense,you've changed your mind?"

"You are really never ceasing to surprise. See, Andrea, you caused a flaw in my plan. You had the makings of the second strain." She waved away Andrea's beginning of a question. "The second, stronger strain is the Beta Strain. These wolves, if left without the Alpha's interference don't become Mongrels. They become Alphas in their own rights."

"What?"

"Exactly my first reaction when you mentioned you had a dream."

"Everyone has dreams, Elizabeth."

"Oh, indeed they do, but proper little Gamma wolves left out for the Wendigo don't fight back in them. They cower and shriek and plead. They don't yell back. They certainly don't fight back." Elizabeth brushed her fingertips along Andy's shoulder, then over the bite. "I underestimated you, and I'll make sure not to make the same mistake twice."

"I'm not an Alpha." Andy winced as her voice shook.

"I wished that was true. It would make the night so much easier." Elizabeth's fingers pressed in on the wound, forcing Andy to kneel from the pressure and pain. Her vision grew blurry, and a roar echoed in her ears. "I know Miranda can disobey, so she's out and James alone isn't strong enough to counter you. I suppose I'll have to finish the job myself." Elizabeth's words were drowned out by the roar. Her vision tunneled, until only Elizabeth's face was in focus. "Not as poetic as I had hoped, but revenge nonetheless. Goodbye, Andrea."

Elizabeth shifted her weight, most likely to turn the pressure into a stranglehold. The move brought the full moon as the only clarity Andy had left. Behind the curtain of pain, Andy sensed the unnatural tingle along the base of her neck grow. This time, it came with a feeling of indignation and fury; some from the utter unfairness that marked Elizabeth's decisions, the rest from a pit deep within the recesses of her mind, long-buried with primal instincts long forgotten. The rage spilled into her blood, and she grew feverish; it caressed over her mind and her reasoning was lost. It bled through her vision and turned the moon scarlet in her sights. It fueled her muscles and her hand snapped about Elizabeth's wrist quicker than thought.

"We've got a problem, Lisa." Andy used the nickname Doctor Michaels had earlier. "Two, actually." She squeezed, and felt the pressure leave her neck as Elizabeth backed away, wary. "The first? You're a terrible hostess. A good hostess doesn't kill her guest." When Elizabeth was no longer touching her, Andy got back to her feet. "The second? I'm nobody's plaything." She shoved Elizabeth back. The air grew thick with power about her. "Oh, and there's a third bit."

"What would that be?" Elizabeth's voice was laced with worry. When Andy inhaled, a sweet scent, that only registered as 'fear' somewhere in her mind, blew on the wind.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance." The last words carried off into a snarl as Andy fell to all fours, her paws easily holding traction on the drive. She tested her claws, working them into the gravel, and bent into a luxurious stretch. The night was alive to her now, blazing as if it was high noon. Elizabeth's color was washed out, but the shock was evident. Elizabeth backpedaled, her image turning hazy. Andy pounced.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve:**

Elizabeth had managed the Change when Andy brought her down. Andy's teeth found fur instead of skin and she pulled her jaws back, spitting it out. She snapped at her throat again, again only connecting with a mouthful of fur. After the initial burst of instinct, she was regretting not having opposable thumbs; they would have made this so much easier. She reared back again when Elizabeth's fangs slashed at the air dangerously close to one eye.

With the element of surprise gone, Andy needed to reform her plan of attack if she wanted to make it through this fight. Elizabeth was circling around, trying to corner her against the gate. If she succeeded, Andy would have little room to maneuver her new body. Andy lowered her head, her hackles rising, and she growled, pushing forward to prevent the cornering.

The faint scraping of paws on gravel is just enough warning for Andy to instinctively duck and roll. She feels a breeze on the back of her neck as Elizabeth's pounce fails its mark. The other werewolf stumbled, slamming into the gate as she regained balance. It wasn't too much of a setback as Elizabeth leapt again, this time her paws hammering down into Andy's back.

'Wuuuf', the air escaped Andy's lungs as the full weight landed on her. Teeth slashed into her shoulder, moist breath tickled her ears. It wasn't possible to scoot forward, but maybe if she just…

Elizabeth let out a quick noise of surprise as Andy darted backwards, making her attack overshoot her next bite. As Elizabeth jaws closed on where Andy just was, Andy herself was sprinting towards the house and the woods behind it. Elizabeth had years of being an Alpha behind her fight, Andy could feel the experience as the other werewolf matched her attack for attack, but Andy felt that she could level the playing field by drawing Elizabeth into a situation where she couldn't rely on the advantage of sheer strength.

As Andy flew over the grounds towards her goal, she felt the freedom of the run wash over her. For a brief moment, the entire situation, Elizabeth, the betrayal, the life-or-death fight, all of it faded in the discovery of the run. Andy could see why Miranda found the gift exhilarating, and she wondered if the two of them could ever just run through a moonlit night. Then reality crashed down, and Andy skirted left, tripping over a paw as Elizabeth rushed up onto her. 'Shit!' she screamed internally. She stretched out her neck, willing her speed to increase.

Elizabeth's breathing faded away as Andy brought distance between them. The shadows of the woods fell in around her. She didn't slow down, trusting her body to instinctively know when to duck, jump, or weave between the trees and undergrowth. Behind her, Elizabeth crashed through the green as well, trying to keep on Andy's tail. The further in they went, the darker it got; when Andy could barely see more than twenty feet before her, even with the heightened sight of the wolf, she slowed down. As she concentrated, she realized that Elizabeth had stopped charging through the woods like a rabid bear as well. Perhaps the Alpha couldn't hear her, but now Andy was deaf to her movements as well.

'Good going, Saks' she berated herself, cocking her head to try and pick up even the quietest of footfalls. With the adrenaline wearing off, the dark woods shifted from her sanctuary to a deathtrap. Every rustle, every breeze, every snap of a twig reverberated around her, making it almost impossible to pinpoint the direction, or the distance. The shadows cloaked all the ambush points where Elizabeth was stalking through, waiting. 'Focus' she told herself, shaking away the creeping doubt. Elizabeth was as blind as she was. 'There are two sides to everything. There's this big ol' wolf-monster-thing, and then there's me. There's Andy. Let's be Andy for a moment.' Andy closed her eyes and pushed back the primal reactions flickering through her brain. In their place, she tried to imagine the patience and the determination hat she had been known for. A heartbeat passed, a twig snapped, nearly ruining the whole thing. Andy opened her eyes again and saw the woods as just another problem to be solved before the deadline.

She pricked her ears again, only this time, her hope was to pick up on the quiet rushing of a stream, instead of Elizabeth. After all, something fed that lake behind the house. She concentrated and found her mark: a soft bubbling of water that flowed east of her. Andy bared her teeth in a wolfgrin and threw back her head to let out a long, loud, triumphant howl before thundering through the brush towards the water.

An answering snarl echoed back at her, but she didn't wait. Within moments her paws were splashing through the cold current, but her eyes weren't on a bank or a hidey-hole, no. She studied the low-hanging branches, all the while forcing herself to remember the human form that came with the human mind. Every step, she felt the fur recede, she had to throw herself on her hind-legs as her forelimbs returned to arms. Before the change was complete, she saw the perfect branch.

She jumped, using the last of the wolf's power to push herself out of the stream. The air left her lungs as she bounced against the branch, and the rough bark scraped over her naked skin, but it didn't stop Andy's momentum. She swung her legs up and over the branch and scooted more towards the trunk, where the branch could withstand a lot more weight. The change back had drained her, and Andy reclined against the trunk of the tree for a heartbeat before asking her body to make the shift one more time.

It was the longest wait of her life as her body drug up the last reserves of strength to make the Change. The overlap of the two bodies was slower, and Andy feared she would be stuck in some monstrous wolf-human hybrid, but the Change completed itself and the branch didn't creak at all under the new weight; just as Andy had hoped. Now Andy just needed to wait for Elizabeth to take the bait.

It wasn't long before Andy picked up on splashes. She craned her head just enough to watchElizabeth's progression down the streambed. Then, like Andy, she stopped and looked around. Andy could picture the gears whirring in Elizabeth's mind as she realized she needed the intelligence of the human mind over the bestial wolf mind. She couldn't sniff out the trail, couldn't stalk with water under her paws. Andy dared a shift in position, and then blinked in surprised.

Elizabeth was changing back! The change was quick, quicker than any of Andy's, but it happened. Andy froze in confusion, wondering why Elizabeth had just conceded her advantage but the answer came to her quickly: Elizabeth saw the two sides as separate entities.

_Some of us have leaned too far toward our humanity…_

To Elizabeth, you were either one or the other; either the beast, or the man. She had forgotten her own fable: _The boy, barely able to hold a spear properly, took the Change and became, not a monster living only to hunt and kill, but a werewolf who could master the primal instincts with the reasoning of man. _The boy's power had been to fuse his two halves into a harmonious whole. Something, it was quite clear, that Elizabeth had never completed.

This was all the chance Andy would get. If she failed this, Elizabeth would have the strength that Andy's body could no longer support. It would mean Andy's death. Andy skirted along the branch as far as she dared go, using the fact that Elizabeth no longer had wolf-hearing. She was, for the moment, deaf and blind. Andy offered up a quick prayer, and then jumped.

Pain came into her senses first. It filtered through her mind and rattled through her skull like the seven dwarves were mining diamonds behind her eyes. The second sense returned to her was the warmth of sunlight caressing over her face. The third sense was hearing.

"She's awake." Doctor Michael's voice rumbled above her.

Andy knew she should have felt panic at his voice, he had been Elizabeth's left-hand, but her body didn't respond. No surge of adrenaline, no increase in heartbeat, no fear crawling up her spine. Nothing to indicate the worry she should have felt.

"Andrea, can you open your eyes?" This voice, soft velvet over rigid steel, belonged to Miranda. Andy could respond to Miranda. With a groan of protest against the action, she opened one eye slowly, then the other one. A sense of déjà-vu washed over her as she looked up into the concerned faces of Miranda, and Doctor Michaels… and as she made to sit up, she realized that they weren't the only ones in the room.

The three other packmembers were there also, each perched on a different type of furniture, each matching the concern in Doctor Michael's eyes. Shannon, Joseph, Brianna. Brianna had a patch over her left eye, and was dressed in a bathrobe. Shannon met Andy's gaze for a moment, then demurely looked away, and Joseph bowed his head.

"What… what happened?" Andy asked. Her mouth was dry.

"You took a nasty fall," Doctor Michael's explained, standing up and walking over to the nightstand. He picked up a pitcher of water and filled a glass. When he walked back to the bedside, he handed the glass to her. "A fall that toppled Elizabeth down as well. You both smashed your head against the streambed's rocks. We found you early this morning, when neither of you returned."

"Elizabeth…?" Andy took the glass.

"We will give her a burial fit for an Alpha when the moon rises again." This time, Brianna spoke. Her voice was light and airy, reminding Andy of springtime. "You do not have to be there if you don't want to, but it's tradition for us to send her off to the Hunting Sky."

"Oh." Andy took a sip of water, then gave Brianna an apologetic look. "Er, sorry, about your, ah, eye."

Brianna shook her head. "It will heal in time, we have a quick regeneration." She studied Andy a bit longer. "Oh, are you sorry for the …" she pantomimed the shoe-stabbing. Andy nodded. "Don't be. At the time, you were fighting for survival."

"Are you sure?"

Brianna nodded. "Besides, now that you are our Alpha, you will be protecting me. A fair trade."

"Alpha…?"

Miranda arched a brow. "Blow to the head or not, I know you're capable of a higher form of speech, Andrea."

Andy tossed her a weak glare that was lost under the thundering pain in her skull. "You have the seven dwarves digging up diamonds in your brain; you tell me if you can manage more than two syllables at a time."

Miranda sniffed. "You just did." She got up; leaving Andy's bedside, but Andy swore she saw the faint curl of a smirk before Miranda moved away. "Andrea needs her rest. I'm sure once she's regained her strength she'll be more than happy to listen to the lot of you babble like puppies. We need to prepare for tonight, and to make sure the will is adjusted to make Andy the sole heir." She watched as the rest of the pack didn't move. They all turned to Andy.

Andy held back a yawn, and then realized that they were waiting for her. "That's all." She curled back under the covers as the pack filed out of the room. Sleep was beginning to retake her but before her dreams took her back into the darkness, she heard Miranda laugh as the door shut.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

_Two months later…_

As the sun ducked below the western horizon, it cast a gold glow over the rising of the full moon in the east. Andy leaned forward on the railing, watching the ending of the day fade quickly into the beginnings of the night.

"You're a million miles away tonight, Andy." She glanced over her shoulder at Doctor Michaels, smiling at his approach. "Nervous?"

"A little bit. It's my last run with the pack—"

"Oh yes, and I'm sure that within that week you're gone the entire pack will descend into a throng of mischievous puppies that go paint the town red."

"Does anyone actually use that term anymore?" Andy laughed. She could see the amber sparkling in Doctor Michaels' eyes, but this time, she only took comfort from the man, not fear.

"I do." He grinned. He came up to stand hip-to-hip with her at the railing. "Miranda and I will watch the puppies while you're away. You have nothing to fear."

"I know, I know. It's just, everything is still so new… and…"

"Then reschedule if you feel uncomfortable." He canted his head as she shook hers no. "No?"

"I pushed off too many of Nate's invitations the past two months, if I decline this one, I don't think I'll ever get the chance to see if we can try again." She stared down at the lake, trying to let the shimmering reflection of the water center her. "I need to see if we can."

"Because you feel that what happened before was all your doing; your mistake." It wasn't a question. Andy grumbled inwardly, knowing he knew that he had hit the mark on the nail. "There are always two sides to every story, Andy."

"I know. I know." She turned a glare on him, but it bounced off. "How's Miranda taking it?"

"Your leaving?" Andy nodded. "As well as one could expect." Which meant that she was probably going to give Andy disdainful looks and the cold-shoulder treatment. Andy may have been Alpha to Miranda's Beta, but there were times she was sure it was the other way around in Miranda's eyes. "Do you know why she's so opposed to you leaving? It's not the Pack. She and I have watched the pups before, when Elizabe—"

"You can say her name. It's all right, James." Andy placed a hand on his arm.

"Elizabeth was still here." He finished. "I don't believe its Boston itself."

"It's Nate." Andy answered. "I don't know why though, he never did anything to her! She's never met him."

"None of us have, but we've heard the voice mails and the phone calls."

"You know, it really sucks having a private conversation with wolves at the door." Andy grumbled. It explained how Miranda always knew what her and Emily discussed, even with the door ajar and a meeting occurring in her office. "I mean, can I have a little privacy?"

"The Alpha's life is Pack life, just as the life of the Pack is the Alpha's life." He explained; no apology evident in his voice. "While I agree with Miranda that I think this Nathan has been less than gentlemanly towards you these past few months …"

"Don't you start." Andy poked his arm. "I get it enough from Miranda."

"You're still very new to this life and very young. Still, I remember young love." Doctor Michaels' gaze grew distant, as if he was looking back into the past. "Have fun in Boston."

"Heeey, I'm not leaving yet." She poked him again. "Come on, let's have one last run before my drive tomorrow. I want to see if we can catch that rabbit on the south side."

Doctor Michaels smirked. "You mean the one who's constantly outsmarting you?"

"Yes, that one!" Andy exclaimed, and then stopped. "Oh, funny. Really funny." Andy gave him one last smile and then concentrated on the Change. As the moon climbed higher into the night sky, it splashed silver over two wolves running towards the lake and the rest of their Pack.

* * *

**A/N: **I had posted Amberlight orginally up at the livejournal community for The Devil Wears Prada two years ago and completed the last chapter a year later. Up until then, I had never completed a full-length chaptered story and so Amberlight will always have a place in my heart.

I made the supernatural elements 'werewolves' because vampires get all the limelight, and really, a werewolf can be just as sensual and dangerous as any ol' vampire. There is a sequel in the works that I will be putting up on and the community site once I can find my old notes for the story that real life got in the way of. I hope you all enjoyed reading Amberlight as I enjoyed writing it. I'll see you readers over in Crimson!


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